


After Midnight

by HuntingHardyGirl, Minxchester (ComeAlongPond14)



Series: Deanmon/Frank (After Midnight) [3]
Category: Hardy Boys - Fandom, Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, Oral Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-10-04 18:00:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 44,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10285196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HuntingHardyGirl/pseuds/HuntingHardyGirl, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ComeAlongPond14/pseuds/Minxchester
Summary: Out of desperation, Frank Hardy sells his soul to a crossroads demon in order to save his brother’s life. But Dean Winchester doesn’t just want his soul; he wants all of Frank. And what starts as the apparent end of Frank’s freedom may just turn out to be the best decision he’d ever made.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There's already some one-shots posted in this verse, but now we're getting down to business. If this gets interest, we have 52 pages worth on Tumblr ready to be re-formatted and posted!

He supposed, on one hand, that it was a good thing that the hospital was so close to a crossroads.

They hadn’t even been hunting. The freak accident that had ended in near fatality had been a car crash, but the doctors said Joe was failing. He hadn’t woken up, and they had to put him on life support, as he had almost been completely crushed in the accident. If he was going to heal, it would have to take a miracle.

But Frank couldn’t wait for a miracle. He was desperate and afraid, so he managed to rush to get the necessary items he needed and sped off to the nearest crossroads. Maybe he was running on adrenaline from the last few days. Maybe he was in an extended form of shock. Whatever it was, his hands were barely shaking as he dug into the dirt, the crickets chirping as the moon glowed overhead, pushing the small tin box into the ground and covering it back up again.

As the teenager got to his feet again, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He knew what he was doing was stupid, but he wasn’t going to let his little brother die. Not like this.

Crossroads deals could be so damn boring. It was almost too easy; desperately scared people, most of them with some variation of a death sentence hanging over their heads, throwing themselves into a stupid decision out of sheer inability to cope with mortality. Or lack of importance.

Dean sighed, feeling the familiar tug of a summons in his “jurisdiction.” Much as he found it boring, it was his job, and he did have a quota to make if he didn’t want to have a “talk” with Crowley.

Throwing back his drink, the demon stood and blinked–and suddenly he was at a dirt road not far from the local hospital. Dean knew this place. It wasn’t the first “don’t let them die” deal he’d made.

“Well, you’re prettier than my usual clients around here,” Dean commented, his black eyes raking curiously over the…fuck, was this kid even 20? Great–the teenager standing in front of him. “Lemme guess, Mom or Dad is in there dyin’ of cancer, or something.”

Frank whirled around to face… Wow. Okay. When he thought of demons, he always pictured what Joe told them that they looked like, ghostly pale skin, huge black eyes and sharp fangs inside a distorted mouth. This guy didn’t look at all what he expected, except for how the eyes were black, boring into him.

He wet his lips, a little more nervous now, but he stood his ground. “No. My mother is already dead, and I don’t know where my father is. It’s… it’s my younger brother,” he explained. “There was a car accident, the doctors don’t think he’ll make it.”

He had to kind of give himself props for not letting his voice to shake. The last thing he needed was to make this creature think he was weak, even if he was ready to collapse at any moment.

Dean raised one eyebrow, slow and thoughtful, and gave the kid a more calculating look over. “Huh. Okay, that’s mildly less cliche than the usual reasons people summon me near a hospital–though it’s still fairly irresponsible. Does baby brother know you’re looking to choose eternal damnation to save him?”

Despite his mocking tone–which was honestly almost his trademark by now, he really couldn’t help it–Dean did feel instinctively less scornful of the boy for his motives. After all, that was how he’d ended up in this gig. He’d given up everything to give his own brother a little more time up top. Sometimes he wondered if it had been a mistake, but that was a wasted line of thinking.

He refocused on the youth in front of him, tilting his head. “To be clear, kid, you do know what I am, what I do, and what you summoned me for?”

“In spite of what you’re thinking, I’m not a fucking idiot,” he snapped. “I have no other choice. If I don’t do this then he’ll die, and that’s not fair to him or me! He’s all I have left!”

Running his fingers through his hair, Frank stared at the ground so hard his vision blurred with tears. “Unless I can offer you take my father’s soul, then my soul is the only thing I can offer. Trust me, I don’t have any qualms about either one of us.” It was almost odd, how he hated his father so much he was willing to throw him into the pit in an effort to save his brother. The man who had abandoned them deserved no less at this point, because he knew that they had been abandoned. Fenton Hardy never took so long to finish a case, nor would he have died without finding a way to arrange news to reach his family before such an event occurred, just in case. They had protocols for that.

Taking a breath to try and calm himself down, Frank looked up again at the demon. “I’m willing to do anything, give anything, if only you’ll save my brother. Please.”

Dean barked a laugh, shaking his head at the kid’s audacity and spunk. Summoning a demon to offer his soul, and then yelling about his problems at the slightest provocation. “Chill out, kid, holy shit,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I’m here to deal, don’t you worry. Baby brother will live to die another day.”

He tilted his head, giving the teen another intent look, and licked his lips. “As much as I’d love to up my intake by cheating, I can’t take a soul unless it’s freely offered by its owner, so if your daddy wants in, he’ll have to call me himself. You, however…”

The demon stepped closer, reaching out to place two fingers beneath the boy’s chin, turning his face to the side as he evaluated him like so much livestock for sale.

“What’s your name, handsome?” Dean asked finally, curious if the human knew just how widely ‘do anything’ could be interpreted.

Frank just glared at the demon, especially when he made the comment about Joe living to die another day. Hopefully that would take a very long time, especially if this deal went as planned.

Still, he couldn’t help but stiffen up as the demon stepped forward, gripping his chin and turning his face from side to side, those black eyes examining him almost hungrily. (Did demons eat people? He wasn’t sure, but he knew he didn’t want to find out.) Knowing better than to shove the thing off, he swallowed. “Frank. Why do you care?”

Dean smirked, black eyes glinting as he studied the boy–Frank–like he was a choice slice of meat. “Well, Frank, crossroad deals come in more than one pretty little package. People don’t know that, because most of the time all we want is your souls, and we don’t really care about your meatsuits or your minds.”

He cocked his head, releasing Frank’s chin without moving away. “But sometimes, we barter. Think of it as a bump-up to a ‘gold’ or ‘platinum’ deal. See, if you say you just wanna offer your soul for baby brother’s life, then he’ll live, but that’s it–I’m just stopping the reaper that’s heading this way. He can heal on his own time–complications aren’t my problem–and it’s up to you to choose when you mention that your soul’s got a ‘sold’ tag on it.”

Dean moved closer again, leaving scarce inches between their chests. “But the thing is, I think I like you, kid. You’re not bad-looking, and you’ve got fire in those pretty grey eyes. So. I can save him, heal him, and get him out of there without the nice doctors ever knowing he was ever there–less hassle later. In return…” He paused, smacking his lips, and tapped Frank’s chest. “You’re mine. Not just your soul, all of you.”

They didn’t only deal with souls? That made no sense. Anything and everything he had read about crossroads demons and their deals involved souls, whether someone sold their own or sold their employment, going after those whose contracts were up, helping hellhounds collect the poor people who thought they could try to outrun the creatures and escape their eternal damnation.

For a moment, Frank didn’t want to let his mind reach the conclusion the demon was obviously leading him to, but he knew it was futile otherwise. The demon was insinuating about sex, and while the idea made his skin crawl, Frank knew he had said he would give anything to save Joe’s life. If that had to include his body, then so be it. “So, I wouldn’t be just selling my soul, I’d be selling you my body?” he repeated, his lip curling a little.

Tilting his head, Dean watched Frank’s face as he processed the information, and reached the obvious conclusion. He offered a thin smile, taking a few steps and slowly circling the boy.

“That’s the gist, thought you don’t need to make it sound like prostitution,” Dean said, chuckling darkly. “We’re not all monsters, Frankie boy. Demons can be perfectly nice, charming…we can be anything we want.” He paused his pacing, sighing as he glanced up at the night sky. “And I can make it very worth your while. But if you don’t like it, then we can go back to the standard deal.”

He glanced in the direction of the hospital, rolling his shoulders and sighing as his joints popped. He needed to get topside more often, get some exercise. “Standard is ten years for you. Little brother will be off the breathing tube before you get back there, and I’m sure he’ll be awake and ready to leave come morning. Make sure he doesn’t end up right back in there, though; this deal just spares him from the accident. It doesn’t make him immune to infection or, you know, being human.”

“So it’s not a ‘one or the other’ kind of deal. I either sell one or both to you or nothing at all. Am I getting the information right?”

Frank was beginning to feel that familiar heavy feeling of dread in his stomach, settling down in such a way that he was feeling a little sick. Suddenly he didn’t think this was going to be such a good idea after all… If, in the end, he still went to Hell, then Joe would be alone in ten years, unless he killed himself and tried following Frank into the pit. He really would not put it past his brother to end up doing that.

Still… Ten years. That was still kind of a long time. He would have time to process, to grieve, to help Joe understand, because he knew Joe would want to save him from his deal, would research and turn over every corner of the earth in search of a loophole. (Joe was always very fond of loopholes.)

But would it be worth it? Should he just let his brother die, tonight, instead of forcing him to stay? If Hell was real, then, logically, Heaven was real. If anyone deserved Heaven, it was Joe. Would he be able to let his brother go, be on his own until his own time came to rejoin him?

Dean cracked his neck, sensing that he was losing Frank to pure, sweet human optimism. “Look, here’s what you’ve got. No deal, then kid sibling dies, probably tonight, I don’t know. That’s for you to deal with by yourself, because without a deal, my interest in your story ends here.” His gaze roamed hungrily over Frank, betraying the fact that those words weren’t entirely true, but Dean moved on.

“Second option, the ten-year deal, and I make no promises that _he_ lasts that long. Also not my concern. That’s just back to life as usual, as if the accident wasn’t fatal, but whatever other problems you’ve got, those stay.”

He paused, turning to face Frank with a smirk on his lips, black eyes glinting in the dim light of the nearby streetlamp. “Option three. Take the upgrade, and I make lil brother’s life a whole lot hell of a lot better. He lives, and he gets anything and everything that you say he needs, and I’m willing to make that perk last. I can even adjust his memories so it’s less painful for him to be without you, if that seems necessary.”

Dean sighed, shrugging. “Or you could visit him now and then–maybe. I may be soulless, but I’m not heartless. Had a brother myself, once upon a time.”

“Whoa, wait a minute!” Frank took a step back, raising his hands almost defensively. “If I pick the third option, I’d just go with you immediately? Tonight? That’s not what I thought you meant, I thought if I ended up picking option three, I’d still get the ten years with my brother before I had to go anywhere near you again!"

That certainly put a cruel twist to the plan. He just wanted to save Joe, keep him around for at least another ten years before they had to go their separate ways, permanently. He did not think he wanted to sign up to be the demon’s bitch, which would start as soon as they would make the deal.

But, God, the clock was ticking, the longer he tried to delay this the less time Joe had. Frank knew he had to make up his mind, and fast.

Dean heaved a sigh, shaking his head in exasperation. “Kid, you’re treating me like we’re both humans, here. I do not care, I’m sorry. I got a quota to meet on deals, and if you’re not sure, I could be elsewhere, scoring someone else.” He cocked his head, eyes growing distant. “Hell, there’s someone in St. Louis who wants to make a deal to be famous tonight.”

He grabbed one of Frank’s upraised hands, yanking on it to jerk him closer, bringing them abruptly nose-to-nose. “Option three is pretty fucking sweet, and it includes perks that someone less fuckin’ pretty than you would never get, so think carefully before you make a snap decision, squirt. Let ‘im die, stop the reaper, or make his life a hundred times better–your pick. I’m getting bored, sweetheart.”

The teen yelped as he was yanked forward. The grip on his arm was tight, almost twisting it, and he could smell the creature’s breath, those black eyes sucking him in as they stared him down.

Frank could feel his heart pounding wildly against his chest, terror swelling up inside him as he was reminded that this was a monster that could easily get the upper hand. He had no weapons of defense, no holy water to protect him, and his Latin was rusty at best, nonexistent at worst.

But he knew the demon was right. He had to make a choice. His mind raced, each scenario splitting up into three different paths.

Option one; let Joe die, much too young to do so, practically drowning in his own blood if a stroke didn’t stop his heart first. Possibly wander around for a month or two before eventually numbing himself one way or another, either by drugs or alcohol, and/or ending up with his suicide.

Option two; agree to the ten year deal. Find a way to sneak a still very injured Joe out of the hospital and nurse him back to health himself. Spend the next decade terrified of losing Joe anyway, knowing that the contract would not be retracted if Joe died before the hellhounds came for his soul. Spend the rest of eternity being tortured, until he forgot his family, forgot his friends and forgot who he was to begin with, and become a demon himself. That was unavoidable.

Option three; agree to sell everything to the demon, and Joe would not only survive the night, but would be “miraculously” healed. The doctors would forget who he was as soon as he walked out. If the demon kept his part of the deal, then his brother would stay safe, no doubt for the rest of his life. The only downside was that Frank would have to leave his brother behind much sooner than he wanted, bound forever to the demon in his own sort of prostitution. It was kind of like a Hell-ish version of being a sugar baby.

Somewhere, a clock chimed, ringing in the hour. Just after midnight, and Frank could already sense he was very close to being out of time. No doubt a reaper was already in the hospital, searching for vulnerable souls waiting to cross over.

He closed his eyes, willing himself not to cry. “…Option three. I choose option three. But please, please, let me have some time with my brother… Before I go with you. I-I need to tell him, I need to let him know…” He had to say goodbye.

Dean studied the kid’s face as he ran through his options, watching him sink into resignation before he voiced his decision. The demon nodded, releasing his grip on Frank’s arm and stepping back, slowly.

“Deal. You can stay the night. I’ll be back at eight sharp, and we’ll take him wherever you want to. Hell, I can build a house anywhere you name for him to stay from now on, if you want.”

He cocked his head, watching Frank wrestle with his choice. “You’re choosing a good path, despite how you see it. I’m a demon, but I’m not the devil. I like making things fun for everyone involved.” Dean grinned smugly, holding out his hand. “You ready to seal this baby? And I don’t mean a handshake, I assume you know the drill.”

Choosing a good path? What kind of good path was it if Frank couldn’t even be with his brother? How on earth could he try to explain to Joe in just eight hours that not only did he sell his soul, but that he sold everything he was? That after everything they had gone through together, he was leaving his little brother to fend for himself in the world?

He remembered what his mother had said years ago. “You’re two halves of the same person,” she liked to remark. “Seeing either one of you without the other feels…wrong.”

And now he was basically throwing all of that away, abandoning the one person who meant everything to him, and he knew he would never forgive himself.

When the demon extended his hand, a smirk on his face as he knew he had won, Frank finally felt a few tears slip free, but he knew better than to back out now. Reluctantly, he nodded and took the demon’s hand. He knew exactly what they had to do.

When Frank’s hand slipped into his, Dean wrapped his fingers around it in a solid grip, just that side of too tight. He stepped forward, his other hand swinging up to clasp the teenager’s face, and then Dean leaned in, pressing their mouths together.

This was actually his favorite part of deals; the spark of magic in the air as the bargain was made, the cosmic shift as an invisible seal was made, unbreakable even by his powers. And this was far sweeter than any deal Dean had ever struck. Frank was by far going to be his favorite prize.

When their lips parted, Dean held on, opening his eyes to gaze into Frank’s distraught eyes, and he smiled. “Eight o’clock, sweetheart. I’ll be back.”

Frank winced as the demon’s fingers closed a bit too tightly on his own, but he was quickly distracted as the creature stepped forward, tilting his head back and pressing their mouths together.

Even Frank could feel it as the deal was made official. Like a tug in his abdomen signifying his choice. The kiss itself wasn’t even a real kiss, just something he had to let happen, even if the demon was a little too into it. When he finally pulled back and reminded the teen that he would come back at eight, Frank nodded, not sure if he had the emotional capacity to speak.

Dean smirked, slow and sinful, and moved the hand that had been cradling Frank’s cheek to give it a light, teasing pat. “Cheer up, kid, it’s really not going to be as bad as you’re convincing yourself. And worth it, too, if it means he’s happy and comfortable the rest of his life, isn’t it?”

Just for the shock factor, Dean vanished at once after speaking–in part because he loved startling humans with his abrupt entrances and exits, and in part because hell if he was going to let any of his competitors get that St. Louis gig. He could fill the next eight hours with work, and free up some time to play with his new toy for the coming week.

8am rolled around before he knew it, with four more deals sealed–none nearly as interesting or tempting as Frank, but whatever, a soul was a soul–and Dean returned to the hospital, skipping the waiting room and appearing in the ER, where he could sense Frank’s presence. At 7:55, he was outside the door of a small recovery room, leaning against the frame and curiously eyeing the blonde boy lying quietly in the bed, with Frank hunched over him protectively.

* * *

Frank almost jumped out of his skin when the demon disappeared so abruptly, but he had no time to sit there wallowing in what he had done. As soon as he realized he was alone again, he sprinted back to the hospital in time to see the doctors pulling the breathing tube out of Joe’s mouth as his brother coughed and gagged through the process, wide awake and already looking much better than he had just ten minutes ago.

It took a while before the doctors finally stopped poking and prodding his brother, a bit amazed at his suddenly quickly growing recovery. But they chalked it up to yet another “miracle” before they were distracted by another patient, and Frank was able to tell Joe what he had done.

“You’re a fucking idiot!” Joe burst out, horrified and angry. “Frank, what were you thinking? You couldn’t have just taken the ten years instead?”

“This was the better option,” Frank muttered, staring at the floor. “This way I know you’re safe. I know you’ll stay alive.”

“Yeah, alive, but what am I gonna do now? We’re all each other has left, you leave, I have no one!”

“We still have Nancy, we’re not too far from River Heights–”

“Dammit Frank, I don’t want Nancy, I want you!” He looked at his older brother with betrayed, tear-filled eyes. “After everything we’ve been through, I have to lose you like this?”

Frank didn’t say anything. What was there to say? He had made his choice, and he didn’t regret the part where Joe would be okay. That’s all he cared about. In the end, Joe finally took his hands, and they sat there like that for the rest of the night, desperately holding onto each other as they knew it would be the last time.

When they heard footsteps behind them right before eight, Joe looked up to see the demon Frank had told him about, but he didn’t see an attractive face unless he concentrated past the monster’s real features. His eyes flashed with rage. “So you’re the asshole,” he said coldly.

Dean’s eyebrows went up-–these boys had quite a set of mouths on them–but he didn’t comment, because that was a relatively fair assessment of his character. “Yup, that’s me. You must be baby brother. I’d say it’s a pleasure to meet you, but that’s probably just salt in the wound.”

He glanced at Frank, taking in his hunched shoulders and miserable face. “You know, I did say we could make an addendum about you visiting him once in a while. I’m not a complete and utter dick.” Dean glanced at the younger one, rolling his eyes at his hostility. “Brothers. If I didn’t used to love my own I’d say you’re more bother than you’re worth.”

“You had a brother?” Joe asked doubtfully. “I’ll bet he’s real proud.”

“Joe, stop,” Frank said quietly. His brother always did try to make things more difficult, but he knew he didn’t want him to see how low he was going to sink, playing pet for such a horrible creature. “Please, just… As soon as the doctor says you can leave, check into a motel and call Nancy. I’m sure she’ll let you stay with her.”

“She’ll ask questions.”

“I don’t care what you tell her. Just…go with her. Okay?” He looked pleadingly at his brother. They had been crying on and off the rest of the night, and right now he was too exhausted to shed any more tears over the subject.

Joe didn’t say anything, he just stared back, his fingers tightening on his brother’s hands. He had grown up attached to the hip with Frank, looked up to him, adored him, and now he was being abandoned by the last person in their family, the one person he loved most. He couldn’t let that happen, not without some kind of fight.

Dean merely shrugged in response to the kid’s sarcasm, not bothering to voice an answer. Sam had been devastated when he made his deal, and had spent their final year doing everything in his power to get Dean out of it. But in the end, Dean went to Hell, his entire world changed, and now Sammy wasn’t around anymore.

He zoned out a little as the brothers had their mushy moment, then glanced at the wall clock and clicked his tongue impatiently. “Eight on the dot, darlings. Time to pay the ferryman.”

A snap of his fingers, and the younger man’s hospital gown was exchanged for civilian clothing. Dean glanced at Frank, tipping his head to indicate that the teenager should come to his side. “So. You want us to drop him off anywhere? If not, he can just walk out of here, no one will see him. They’re already forgotten he was ever here.”

“We’re not too far from where a friend lives, he can catch the bus,” Frank replied a bit dully.

Joe scrambled out of the bed, clinging to his brother’s shirt. “Frank, please, there has to be another way!”

“There’s not.” Frank hesitated a moment before pulling his brother into a hug, feeling how tightly Joe hugged him back, as if hoping that they might get stuck like that. “Stay safe okay? I’ll…I’ll try to visit as soon as I can.”

Joe was shivering, almost tearing through Frank’s t-shirt with his nails. “I love you…”

“I love you too.” After a moment, he reluctantly pulled away, practically prying Joe’s fingers off of him. Feeling like the worst brother to ever exist, he turned away, going to stand beside the demon, unable to look at the completely heartbroken expression on Joe’s face.

Dean saluted the kid with a cheerful grin, then set his hand on Frank’s shoulder, and they were gone.

“You could have asked for his memories to be changed, too, y’know,” he commented, when they reappeared in the parking lot of a bar several block away. “Pair of martyrs, making it such a big emotional mess. I could program his head so he permanently thinks you’re, whatever–away at school, working overseas, whatever the hell would make him happy.”

He shrugged as he headed toward the Impala, tucked in a corner space. “But I guess it’s time for brass tacks. How stubborn are you planning to be? I’ve got plenty of uses for you, but I don’t really need the hassle of breaking you in. Plus, I will rescind perks of the deal if you drive me crazy.”

Dean turned to give Frank a hard look, his eyes flickering between green and black in the morning sunlight. “I can make you perfectly comfortable, and baby bro’s life peachy, but that comes with the expectation of good behavior and cooperation from you. On all points.”

“If I’m going to have to leave him then he deserves to at least know the truth as to why,” Frank muttered, glaring at the ground as he reluctantly followed the demon to the classic car nearby. At least he could tell the demon had expensive taste.

Still, he didn’t like the sound of being “broken” in, like some kind of show horse. He didn’t know how far the demon would take anything, but when he suddenly turned, his eyes boring into Frank’s, the teenager knew that the creature would not have boundaries. Any kind of punishment he deemed worthy would occur if Frank tried to put up a fight.

His hands clenched automatically, trying to calm his sudden anxiety. “I agreed to the deal. You really think I’d be stupid enough as to try anything extreme?” he asked. “I don’t even know your name.”

Cocking his head, Dean let his expression lighten, turning more calculating than threatening. “True, I guess I never left you my card. Dean Winchester.” He offered his hand, curious if Frank would accept the shake.

“As for the kid brother–I never got his name, if you feel like sharing–have it your way. But you can’t be moping; you’re right, you did choose this. If you want to sulk about separation anxiety, do it when I don’t expect your attention. Otherwise, I’ll count it as an inconvenience.”

Frank scowled a little. How long had this guy been a demon? Long enough to truly lose his humanity, he supposed. “Oh yes, how silly of me. The one person I’ve been closest to almost died and now he knows I’m leaving him behind to be your whore so that he stays safe. Sorry that I still need some time to process all of that.”

Okay, this was not getting off on the right foot… Already his body tensed just as the words left his mouth, fully expecting Dean to strike out at him.

Dean paused for a long moment, staring at Frank as his hand dropped. In a split second, his mind leapt back to another wide pair of eyes, blinking away tears as a choked voice asked if Dean had sold his soul for him.

Finally Dean sighed, nodding and turning away. “Fair. Alright, new rule–you get some leeway for the fact that you’re human, and that means some emotional shit that I don’t deal with anymore. I won’t hold it against you, but try to keep up with me around it. Get in,” he said, unlocking the Impala without looking back. “Bout time you saw your new permanent home.”

Frank was so startled by the fact that he hadn’t gotten slapped that it took him a moment to follow the demon’s order, before he swallowed, nodded and quickly got into the car.

It was a nice car. He didn’t know the make or model, but from the style it was obviously old. Sixties or seventies, perhaps? Joe would have known. Joe loved cars… The thought of his brother just made his mood worse, but he didn’t know how to stop thinking about it. All of those years, all of those cases, all of those times when one or both of them almost died, he had given it all away in one moment of sheer desperation.

Joe was right. Frank really was an idiot.

Settling into the driver’s seat, Dean let himself stew through his feelings for the amount of time it took to put the car in reverse, get out of the parking lot, and then hit the road again. Then, he shrugged slightly, letting the annoyance roll away.

He glanced over at Frank across the seat, chewing his lip for a second as he deliberated. Then he smiled.

“Move over,” Dean said quietly, gesturing to the space right beside himself, in the middle of the bench seat. “And then undo your jeans.”

Frank considered jumping back out of the car to let himself be hit by oncoming traffic, for one moment, but he didn’t dare say that out loud. When Dean instructed him to move closer and undo his jeans, his face immediately turned red. He knew that this would happen sooner or later, he just didn’t realize the demon wanted to get started right away.

He did as he was told, moving until he was seated right next to the demon. It felt wrong, he didn’t know anything about Dean except that he was kind of a douche and pretty much a horndog. Maybe he should have been an incubus instead of a crossroads demon? Shaking off the thought, he warily undid the button and zipper of his jeans, looking away as he did so.

Fuck, Dean could really get used to that blush. Frank was a damn good-looking kid as it was, but with pink darkening his cheeks and making the soft grey of his eyes stand out…even if Dean hadn’t fully planned on taking advantage of their deal to get to toy with the teenager, it would officially be on the agenda, now. He’d like to see that blush every day for the rest of eternity.

He could see the spark of resistance and anger in Frank’s eyes even as he obeyed, sliding over and then bracing himself before his fingers fumbled with the clasp of his jeans, gaze moving away. Dean licked his lips, removing his hand from the wheel again and reaching over to grasp Frank’s jaw, turning his face back toward the demon.

“Eyes on me,” he corrected him, using a red light to turn a hard, green-eyed glance on the younger man. Dean had discovered long ago that even people who don’t hate demons found them more bearable with their human eyes. He could play ball, if that helped Frank relax a little. “You need to loosen up, sugar. I don’t care what you have to fantasize to get there, but I want you to get hard. Touch yourself for me,” Dean instructed, releasing Frank’s face. He was curious if the teen would obey him about where his eyes should be.

The fingers grasping his chin forcing him to turn his head almost made Frank slap them away before he caught himself just in time. Trying to force a demon to not touch him, especially in this situation, would not bode well for him.

And then his heart dropped at Dean’s order. Touch himself?! Here? Now? There was no way he could do that, it was too humiliating, too fast! And to try and force himself to get hard?

“W-what if I can’t get hard?” he asked, dreading the answer.

A small, cold smirk curled up the corner of Dean’s lips, and he glanced at the clock on the dashboard. “Well, you’ve got about ten minutes to try your best. I’m taking you to an apartment of mine, and once we’re there, I can take care of you myself.”

He let his hand drop to Frank’s thigh, giving it a squeeze that was probably just over the line of too hard. “You’re going to need to get used to this, kiddo. And trust me–eventually, you’re going to enjoy it. So consider this day one of training. Learn to want it, and learn to like following instructions. Ideally, the day will come when you get hard as soon as I call for you,” Dean said, chuckling as he returned his focus to the road.

Ten minutes… Oh god. Could he even do that in ten minutes? So much stress had some bad effects on the body, including hindering arousal. And he did not like the sound of Dean’s “promise” of taking care of him, though he knew something would happen once they got to this apartment he mentioned.

Then Dean’s hand was on his thigh, squeezing it hard, and Frank stiffened automatically. How could he learn to like something like this? Just being in the demon’s presence scared him half to death! The teenager also was reluctant to admit that he had never been with anyone intimately before; porn was the closest thing he could get, and he didn’t even watch much of it when he had the chance.

Still, disobeying made him just as frightened and as soon as Dean removed his hand, Frank stared straight ahead, unable to move as he struggled just to do something. After a minute passed, he moved his hands a bit shakily back towards his pants, sliding them under his jeans and past his briefs. God, this was horrifying.

Grasping at himself, he moved his hand in small strokes, his legs pressing together in embarrassment, his heart pounding as his dick refused to harden.

Dean minded the road, but most of his attention was on the boy in the passenger seat, noting both his facial expressions–poor thing looked unsure of whether he wanted to cry, or shout at him–and the almost robotic way he forced himself to obey Dean, grasping his flaccid cock and stroking it as if he could override his own fears.

He said nothing as he drove, letting Frank try unsuccessfully to stimulate himself, until finally Dean pulled into the underground parking garage below a classy, private apartment complex.

“Zip up,” he said quietly, turning the car off and looking over at Frank with a small smirk. “I’ll get you there myself, don’t worry, sweetheart.” Climbing out, Dean moved around the car and opened Frank’s door, offering him a hand.

It was truly unfair how things were going for him right then. Ten minutes. Ten minutes! Surely he should have gotten hard somehow in that time allotment. Yet, his body refused to cooperate, no matter what he did to try and stimulate himself. Not even trying to think of porn helped.

His anxiety almost turned into panic when Dean pulled them into a parking garage, slipping into a space and the car turned off, the demon smirking at him as if he had known this was going to happen. What could Frank even say in his defense? “I tried”? Of course he had tried! Didn’t exactly matter at this point, did it?

When Dean got out of the car and offered his hand, Frank considered for a split second to refuse it. But he knew, again, that refusing would result in bad things, so he zipped his jeans back up and hesitantly took the demon’s hand, allowing Dean to help him out of the car. Fuck, his head was starting to pound from lack of sleep, his body shivering both in fear and exhaustion.

Dean kept an almost-too-tight grip on Frank’s hand, locking the car up and leading him to the elevator in the corner. “No need to look so terrified,” the demon said with a soft laugh, only releasing his hold on Frank once they were closed inside of the box, moving up to the top floor. “I’ll only bite if that’s what you’re into.”

The elevator pinged softly when it stopped, and Dean exited immediately, unlocking the front door of the only apartment on this level. “Come on. Time to see if we can’t make you feel a little more comfortable, handsome.”

He led the way inside, tossing his keys onto a table and removing his leather jacket. The apartment was small, and nicely furnished, with a combined living area and kitchen, and a bedroom visible through the open door to the right.

“Are you thirsty?” Dean asked over his shoulder. He didn’t plan to push Frank too far this early on, despite the teen’s obvious fears, but he needed him to remain conscious for at least a short time longer today.

‘No need to look so terrified’? Sure, whatever. He had just spent a ten minute car ride trying to make himself hard for a demon who had snagged him as a “pet” of sorts, but he shouldn’t look like how he felt.

Frank said nothing, rubbing at his face as he struggled to remain awake. God, he was so tired, all he wanted was to curl up and fall asleep somewhere. When the elevator dinged and Dean let them into the apartment, Frank instinctively looked around, taking in almost every detail his aching eyes could remember. At Dean’s question as to whether or not he was thirsty, the teenager nodded, crossing his arms a little as he tried to keep his trembling under control.

“Y-yeah, could…could I have some water?” he asked quietly, wandering a small bit always to look out the window. Wow, it was actually kind of a nice view.

Dean ignored the scathing look that Frank shot him, not concerning himself with the teenager’s unstable emotional state. Sooner or later, he hoped, Frank would come to enjoy his service–maybe even to like Dean, himself. Probably not. But a demon could hope.

“Water, yeah,” he said, going into the kitchen and pouring a glass from the fridge. Crowley kept these places throughout the country for his “employees,” and Dean honestly preferred them to his own place in Hell. It was nice to be topside, where the views through the windows were real, rather than magic, and people actually knew how to grill up a burger and fries for the discerning palette.

He set the glass in front of Frank, moving around behind him to carefully slide his jacket off of him. “We’ll be staying here till you’ve gotten some rest, so make yourself at home. Man, I’d forgotten how fragile humans can be. You look absolutely dead–did you and baby brother stay awake all night?”

Frank stared out the window, watching the traffic below, and wondered vaguely if he could make a last ditch effort to avoid this. If he opened one of the windows now and tried jumping, would he die? Or would he only break some bones? The few times he had ever had to jump from a window, he had mostly broken his arm or his leg, or that one time when he almost shattered his collarbone, dislocating his shoulder in the process.

He knew he couldn’t really go through with it. The idea of being tortured in Hell for all eternity was even more frightening then knowing he was someone’s glorified trophy.

Suddenly there was a glass of water in front of him and Dean was easing his jacket off, leaving the teen in his t-shirt. “In the last forty eight hours, I have gotten maybe three hours of sleep,” he muttered, stifling a small yawn. “Yes we stayed up the rest of the night. Just… Needed to help Joe process my decision.”

In reality, he didn’t want to lose a precious second. Didn’t want to end up falling asleep and waking up to find that the demon had already taken him before he could say his final goodbyes to his brother.

Dean turned to hang Frank’s jacket over a kitchen chair, nodding at what he was saying. “Figures. Guess I can’t be too pissed at you for that. I probably wouldn’t find you as interesting if you weren’t so emotionally…involved.”

He returned to the fridge, grabbing himself a beer and snapping it open on the edge of the countertop with a flick of the wrist. “So you might be useless to me until I’ve let you get some sleep,” Dean observed, taking a long sip. Then he frowned, suddenly curious.

“Have you ever had sex before?” he asked Frank, his green eyes narrowing. “Or done anything at all, with someone else? Because if you’ve gone two fucking days without sleep, it kind of figures that you wouldn’t be able to get it up–no matter what tricks I use.”

Frank took the glass of water, sipping at it as a way to try and gather his thoughts before he had to answer.

“No,” he said finally. “I haven’t been with anyone before. Never had the time, never really had the interest.”

He couldn’t help but wonder if Dean would get a thrill out of that. Not only did he snag a prize, he snagged a virginal prize. Would that give him pause, let him go slowly before they did anything sexual? Or would he want to get to him right then and there, he would be the one to take his virginity.

Odd… Whenever Frank would think of such an event occurring, he always imagined he would be doing it with someone he was in love with… Just another way life liked to bite him in the ass.

“Huh.” Dean had to stop for a minute himself, maintaining a neutral expression and sipping his beer as he considered that. “Wouldn’t have thought that, given your age. Interesting.”

If he was honest…that was pretty much whipped cream and a cherry on top of a fresh slice of apple pie. Frank was untouched. All of his experiences, everything he ever felt or tasted or learned, would belong to Dean.

Dean raised an eyebrow at Frank, cocking his head. “Is that part of the reason you look so horrified being in the same room as me? I mean, you made the deal. Freely. You could have taken the ten year option. So, is the hang-up that you’re iffy about sex?”

“I took this deal because then I knew for sure that Joe would survive. His safety is and always will be my top priority.” He took in a breath, gripping the glass tighter in his hands. “To be honest, I thought this deal would run the same as the standard ten year thing. That I’d take the deal and see you again in, like, ten years, hopefully with a little more experience than just my hand…” Not like that was worth anything, not after that car ride.

“…I grew up with the mentality that I could only have sex if I was in love, with someone important to me.” He turned his face away to hide the small scowl. That was never going to happen now, was it? Hell, he didn’t think he would have been too bothered if he had stayed a virgin forever. He had more important things to worry about. “That’s mostly what I’m ‘iffy’ about.”

Dean snorted, setting his beer down and going to see what food was stocked in the fridge. “Okay, so you thought…what? That the whole ‘platinum package’ thing meant I’d save baby boy–Joe–and give him perfect health, and the two of you would be magically immune and safe from harm for a decade, before I came to collect?”

He found a chimichanga in the freezer, and went to put it in the microwave. “Sex and love, huh? So I’m guessing if I offered to take the pressure off and let you fuck someone else, that wouldn’t help the situation.” Dean rolled his eyes, removing the plastic wrap from his food and gesturing to silently ask Frank if he wanted food. “Well, it puts a slight mood kill on our plans, but that’s fine. We’ll warm you up to it, sweetheart, don’t worry.”

“Yeah, I know, I’m stupid,” he muttered, pressing his forehead against the window, watching the cars whizzing back and forth on the road below. “Don’t have to rub it in.”

Frank didn’t like how Dean said that he’d be warmed up to it. The fact that he was going to play whore for a demon was repulsive enough, there was no way he’d end up enjoying such a thing. Sex in general just sounded so…messy and awkward, but he figured with a figure from Hell it would be worse. Who knew what kind of things Dean was into?

“No,” Dean replied thoughtfully, putting food on a big plate and setting it in the middle of the counter for them both. “You aren’t stupid, just sentimental. People do dumb as fuck stuff when they love someone. It’s unfortunate, but there you are. Besides,” he added, walking around to cross the room and stand behind Frank. “If you took the ten, then afterward you’d be on Hell’s rack. It ain’t a joke, sweetheart.” Dean’s eyes flashed black. “You think you hate me for being a demon, try to picture becoming one.”

He reached out, one hand coming to rest on Frank’s shoulder lightly. “I’m not going to torture you, you know. It may look like a nightmare, but it won’t be as bad as you clearly expect.” Dean’s mouth quirked up. “You’re just damn lucky no one else answered your summons. I’m actually one of the nicer ones. Now come eat, before you fucking faint on me.”

That actually sounded just as horrifying. Frank tried to picture himself as a creature of Hell, uncaring, unfeeling, getting a thrill out of causing others pain. How long would it had to be before his soul had been that far corrupted? He heard rumors that time moved faster in Hell. Would he even last long? Would he even remember being human?

At the suggestion of food, Frank felt his stomach ache. Truthfully he didn’t think he could stomach anything, but the last thing he wanted was to push the demon away, so he gave a silent nod and moved back, away from the window and towards the kitchen, his body moving on some kind of autopilot.

Dean pushed the plate closer to Frank, and refilled his water. His eyes were green again, settled with unnerving focus on Frank’s face as the teenager struggled to eat. Much as the demon wanted to get in with things, he did still remember the pain of minor needs, like sleep and food and the occasional escape from reality.

“The bedroom behind you should be fresh for use,” he commented, grabbing his beer and finishing it off. “There’s a bathroom in there, too. When you’re done–” Dean nodded at the food. “–you should go rest, clean up, whatever you need. We’ll get you any supplies you need later. Bathroom’s stocked, though.”

He wandered over to the living area, dropping into the couch. “Make yourself at home, basically.”

Frank gave another silent nod, forcing himself to eat some of the food. It tasted like cardboard and rested heavily in his stomach but he didn’t try to complain.

Once he felt like he was done eating, he robotically took the plate to the sink, setting it in and heading into the bedroom, halfway shutting the door behind him. The entire time he was in the bathroom, he was on guard, waiting to see if Dean would try anything. When he managed to clean his face and brush his hair a little and saw no sign of the demon, he relaxed ever so slightly, going into the bedroom and sitting on the bed.

This was bad. This was probably the worst idea he had ever had. But he had to remind himself, Joe was safe, hopefully already contacted Nancy for a place to stay. As long as Frank stayed where he was, then there was hope that Joe would stay safe.

  
Reluctantly pulling off his jeans, he crawled under the blankets, bringing them up around him so that his entire body was covered. Apparently his body decided it was time to recharge, for as soon as his head hit the pillow Frank was dead to the world.


	2. Chapter 2

Being a demon meant not requiring sleep, and Dean had long ago learned how to let time pass without getting bored. He could sleep, if he wanted to, but his blood was pumping and his mind was whirling, and Dean didn’t really want to drift off and miss Frank trying to escape, if that happened. He strongly hoped that it didn’t; everything would be easier the quicker Frank accepted their new dynamic, and got used to him.

He turned the television on quietly, letting it create background noise as he sat on the sofa and played with his phone. The fact that he’d gotten more souls than usual last night clearly had Crowley curious, judging from the questioning text waiting for him. Dean ignored it. His boss would see later why he’d been working harder.

Hours passed before Dean looked up again, glancing toward the bedroom door curiously. He stood, tossing his phone aside and wandering over to peer inside.

Frank was sprawled across the bed, the sheets kicked aside in the warm air of the apartment. Sleep lowered everyone’s guard, it seemed. Dean smirked, nudging the door open and sliding over to the bedside. His eyes roamed hungrily over the body before him, noting the faint flush in Frank’s cheeks, and the sliver of skin visible between his t-shirt and underwear.

Dean licked his lips, tilting his head when he realized Frank had removed his jeans. He’d certainly been right that Frank was beautiful all over.

Leaning over him, Dean reached out, letting his fingertips trail gently along the warm, bare skin of Frank’s belly, above the waistband of his shorts.

Frank was dreaming of someplace better than this, of Hawaii. He had been there so many times and yet he never got tired of it, never got tired of the gorgeous beaches and how the sun glittered over the ocean, never got tired of hiking through the jungles, never got tired of just absorbing the local life. True, almost every time he ended up in Hawaii it was for a case, but it never ceased to impress him. Sometimes standing on the shore, letting the water rush up to cover his bare feet, he felt…more at peace with himself. 

In his dream, he was sharing a rare vacation with his friends and loved ones, watching George and Ned surfing, while Bess flirted with a lifeguard and Nancy and Joe dug around for seashells for their collections. It felt…normal. If only he could stay.

Subconsciously feeling the touch to his stomach, he stirred, sighing a little before his body relaxed further against the mattress, clinging to sleep too much to let him wake up just yet.

Dean wondered what the teenager was dreaming about that had put that content, almost-there little smile on his lips. He was relaxed for the first time since Dean had met him the night before, limbs loose and pliant, and he responded to the touch of Dean’s hand as if it were not unwelcome.

Biting his lip curiously, Dean eased onto the edge of the bed, careful not to jostle too much and risk waking Frank. His hand moved a little more boldly, resting palm-flat against the smooth plane of Frank’s stomach, stroking just barely over his skin.

When that didn’t wake the teen or make him pull away, Dean smirked slightly, gliding just his fingertips further down–remaining outside of Frank’s underwear for now, to be safe–and brushing them lightly over the barely-visible shape of Frank’s cock through the fabric.

Heat… He could feel heat on him, as his dream slowly faded into something else. Hands slowly caressing him, touching him, making him feel safe.

Not realizing that he was actually being touched, Frank took in a small breath, his body arching a little under the warmth. His bottom lip got caught between his teeth as his cock twitched from the barely there stimulation, the blood rushing down to slowly fill it out.

_ Oh, fucking hell… _

Dean grinned despite himself as Frank reacted so positively, sighing an inhalation and tilting into the pressure of his fingertips, back arching as if asking wordlessly for more. Situating himself more comfortably, Dean obliged the silent plea, pressing his hand more firmly over the growing curve of Frank’s erection. The heat of it scorched him even through Frank’s underwear, and the demon swallowed a moan of want, biting his lip to keep quiet.

Seemed like he could get away with this, then. Dean’s eyes went black with hunger, his fingers drifting back up and slipping beneath the elastic to close as gently as possible around Frank’s cock, giving the hot, hard shaft a few quick strokes to bring him to full hardness in Dean’s eager hand.

It was like his mind was becoming a jumble of different emotions and colors in his dream, arousal becoming the most predominant. How long had it been since he had done anything sexual, the more recent event aside? He couldn’t remember the last time he had been alone long enough to do anything.

His body responded to the stimulation, his cock hardening under the demon’s hand, flushed and thick as it filled out. A small moan escaped the teenager’s mouth, his legs spreading just a little in reaction.

Dean growled slightly in approval, choking on the sound as he tried to stay mute. Fuck, but he’d known that Frank would be gorgeous like this, flushed skin and small wriggles and his hips starting to twitch into the contact as he unconsciously pushed for more. Maybe it was just him, maybe it was the whole still-a-virgin thing, but his responses were so damn  _ pure _ . Dean wanted to eat him alive.

He slipped his hand free just long enough to go for the lube stashed in the bedside table, adding a few drops to his palm and then sliding it back beneath the cotton to resume jerking Frank off, the gel making it just slick enough to be smooth and easy, but not so much that Dean couldn’t still feel every bit of the texture of the teenager’s dick.

“Fuck, you’re gonna be stunning when you let me do this while you’re awake,” the demon breathed, bracing his free hand on the mattress as he circled his fingers over the head of Frank’s cock, thumbing into the slit and smearing pre-come. “Bet you taste fucking divine, too.”

The arousal was becoming too much, his body shivering a little from the touches, as his dreams managed to melt away and Frank forced his eyes open when he realized that a hand was grasped around his aching cock, stroking it and teasing the tip.

Immediately his body stiffened and he jerked his head to see Dean leaning over him, those black eyes shining as he grinned a shit eating grin. His hand moved steadily, firmly, rubbing the sensitive skin like he knew exactly where the teen liked to be touched. Frank was sure his face was the same color as a stop sign as he choked a little, his hand darting down to grab onto the demon’s wrist. How long had this been happening?!

“W-wait– What are y-you–?” He felt another squeeze and he gasped, hips bucking a little.

Dean felt the shift the instant Frank woke up, the rush of tension that flooded down through his body and tried to lock down on the pleasure, block Dean’s touch out of his mind, prevent the now-inevitable climax.

He threw his free hand up, grasping Frank’s shoulder and keeping him flat on the bed as his other hand continued its stroking, harder and tighter, because he knew, Dean fucking knew the teenager was close enough to still come, and he wasn’t giving this up.

“You’re fine, just relax,” the demon murmured, easily shaking off Frank’s attempt to push away his hand. “Let it come, sweetheart, just go ahead and feel it, want you to come for me, right now–!”

Oh god, oh god, this wasn’t how he thought this would start! Frank was in a confusing jumble of emotions and sensations, the pressure in his gut building despite the fact that his heart was pounding, both in arousal and in fear.

Being pinned down didn’t help matters either. He made his cock give a rather hard throb, already leaking over Dean’s fingers, and the teen reached up, trying to push the demon off. “N-no, wait, I-I’m gonna–!”

Too late. The pressure suddenly got worse, pushing through and Frank almost spasmed, giving a choked cry as he climaxed, cum bursting from his tip and coating Dean’s fingers and his stomach, a few drops hitting the bed beneath them. His back was arching and his toes were curling against his thought process, his hips jerking as he rode it out.

“Fuck, yeah, that’s it, baby, good boy, just let it happen,” Dean purred, grinning wolfishly as Frank’s body betrayed him, dragging him into a clearly-intense orgasm that twisted through his body, noisy and wet and absolutely fucking perfect. Dean couldn’t have asked for better.

“That’s it, that was flawless,” he praised, stroking Frank’s cock until it softened, only releasing it when he knew the sensitivity would start to read like pain. He lifted his hand, inspecting the substantial amount of come dripping from his fingers. “You’re quite a geyser, aren’t you? Impressive, I gotta say.”

Dean promptly sucked his fingers into his mouth, not really caring how Frank would feel about it–he wanted a taste. A low moan escaped the demon. “Fucking– _ yes,  _ shit, I knew you’d be amazing.” He glanced down at the panting teenager, arching an eyebrow. “And how do we feel?”

It was a struggle to catch his breath afterwards, wincing a little as the demon stroked him through his orgasm before pulling away when his cock softened. He could still feel the blush on his face as Dean licked his fingers clean, giving a small moan as if he really tasted good.

At his question, Frank realized he was practically half naked and squirmed, pulling his eyes away. “D-dirty,” he stammered. In all honesty, he felt a lot of things; a bit of relief to be less sexually frustrated, but dirty from how he had gotten release. A bit frightened because, Jesus, he had never cum so hard in his life. But dirty was a pretty big factor here. He had never been touched like that before by someone else, and while he knew his reaction to the handjob was only natural he still felt guilty, like he had done something wrong.

Dean tilted his head, observing the play of emotions that danced across Frank’s face, and shook his head with a soft little chuckle. “Oh, come on–that had to be one of the best orgasms you’ve ever had. I get the virgin thing, but masturbation never measures up to someone’s hand–or mouth–wrapped around your dick. I will prove that to you, rest assured.”

He leaned back, grabbing Frank’s jeans from the floor and using them to wipe his hand clean. “Don’t tell me that didn’t feel good, kiddo, I know it did. Now, you got your strength back? We got better places to be.” The demon paused, smirking. “I’ve got people to show you off to.”

“I-it was a natural response, I couldn’t exactly control it!” He blushed even harder, yanking the sheets up to try and cover himself. God, he needed a shower, needed to wash himself off, the last thing he needed was to have his own cum dry on himself and his underwear, that would be incredibly uncomfortable.

Then Dean mentioned going somewhere, and Frank’s eyes widened. “Wait, what? Y-you’re not gonna let anyone else touch me are you?” he demanded.

Dean paused as he was sliding back off of the bed, arching an eyebrow down at Frank for his horrified tone. “Well, I wasn’t planning to,” he taunted, letting a wicked grin spread over his face. “But I mean, clearly you’re not completely asexual, so if it’s just  _ me _ fucking you that you have a problem with, then we could probably arrange something.”

He let that sink in, enjoying Frank’s obvious terror, before Dean had to bark out a laugh, reaching out to pinch Frank’s cheek in a parody of affection. “Okay, no, I’m just fucking with you. Nope, I’m a pretty possessive bastard, I’ll be honest. If something’s mine, I don’t want anyone else touching it–so you’re safe there.”

Dean shrugged as he grabbed Frank by both wrists, hauling him to his feet. “Now come on, let’s get you showered and dressed. You may as well go commando, given the mess in your pants,” he added, smirking at the obvious dark stain on the front of Frank’s underwear.

Frank felt his body freeze up in terror. The idea of being touched, of being fucked, by anyone he didn’t know freaked him out, and it scared him shitless to think that Dean would let any of his friends – did demons have friends? – force him into something he didn’t want.

But then Dean laughed and pinched his cheek, causing the teen to flinch at the touch, but he did feel a little bit of relief that Dean wouldn’t just pass him off like a plaything to anyone, even if he didn’t like how the demon implicated that Frank was his. Technically he was, but he sure didn’t feel like it.

Giving a small yelp when Dean suddenly pulled him out of bed, he struggled to cover himself again, blushing. “My jeans need to be washed… A-and my shirt. I can take care of the shower part myself.”

Rolling his eyes, Dean guided Frank into the bathroom, switching on the shower and then returning to the bedroom for his jeans. “We’ll get you clean pants later. And being shy isn’t going to help things much, sweetheart. You did just come in my hand, you know, there’s no reason to keep hiding from me.”

Coming back to Frank’s side, Dean smirked, reaching out to pat the teenager’s cheek playfully. “Much as I’d like to challenge your sense of autonomy just for fun, I’ll be nice and let you wash off by yourself. But make it quick, I’m a man who likes to keep moving.” So saying, Dean pulled himself up onto the bathroom counter, whistling quietly as he gave Frank a look that clearly said he wasn’t going anywhere.

“Well excuse me for trying to hold onto what little dignity I have left,” Frank grumbled, giving the demon a scowl before reluctantly shedding his clothes and stepping into the shower. There wasn’t even a shower curtain he could hide behind, so he pointedly turned his back on the other, (as dangerous as that was) and grabbed one of the bars of soap.

He scrubbed good and hard, hard enough for his skin to turn pink, but it didn’t feel like he was clean enough. That dirty feeling was still prickling under his skin and he knew it would only get worse from here, as much as it scared him. When he figured it had been long enough before Dean could get angry, Frank rinsed himself and turned the water off, climbing back out of the shower, dripping wet and shivering as he reached for a towel, averting his eyes from the demon’s heated gaze.

Dean’s whistling gradually quieted as he watched Frank strip–it was going to be a while before he stopped needing to pause and congratulate himself, because holy shit that ass–and then shower. The demon cocked his head, his eyes returning to green as they observed the way Frank scrubbed at his skin, hard and fast, as if he were trying to remove from invisible stain.

“You’re gonna rub yourself raw,” Dean pointed out mildly, the barest hint of a smirk lingering on his lips when Frank finally shut the water off. As the teenager dried himself, Dean leaned back against the mirror, spreading his legs lazily.

“As for dignity,” he commented, chuckling, “You really shouldn’t worry yourself over it anymore. I’m going to ask whatever I choose of you, and you will be expected to obey. If you find it humiliating or uncomfortable, that matters to me, but only slightly–and honestly, not if that’s exactly the point of the exercise. I like your stubborn streak, kid,” Dean said, grinning. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to try to work it out of you. At least to the point that you’re well-behaved.”

Frank huffed in disbelief, wrapping the towel tightly around himself. “So, what? You gonna force me into a golden bikini like Princess Leia?” he demanded, glaring at the demon. “Sorry I don’t think I have the body figure for that. Too elaborate.”

He turned away again, face flushing as he looked for his clothes again. “I need to get dressed. I am not leaving this place naked, I draw the line there.” Though he felt sure he was going to be drawing a lot of lines, he knew that it was likely Dean would ignore them.

Shaking his head, Dean barked out a laugh, his eyes crinkling up in amusement at that. “Nah, I actually didn’t go for the bikini, myself. I like action–the whole Endor soldier look was more my thing.”

Dean slid to his feet, grabbing Frank’s jeans and tossing them onto the counter. “There. And if you don’t like your shirt, I’ve got some of mine you could wear. Actually, that’s what we’re gonna do, because then you’ll smell like me, which will benefit you if a hellhound takes interest.” The demon’s smile took on a cold edge. “You definitely don’t want one of those beauties thinking that you’re out of place in Hell.”

Gesturing, he led the way out of the bathroom. “Come on. Grab food or whatever if you need it, and then we’ll leave. You can put on a shirt in the car–I like you better this way, personally,” Dean added, winking back at Frank as he strolled toward the kitchen.

His jaw clenched to try and stave off his embarrassment but he did end up sliding the jeans on, sans underwear. The briefs were pretty much ruined anyway, no need to put them back on. Then he reluctantly followed the demon out into the kitchen, grabbing a water bottle as he wasn’t hungry in the least.

Frank never felt comfortable being shirtless the last few years. Many old scars had faded, but plenty of them remained, etched into his skin and criss crossing over his chest, back and shoulders. While he detested the idea of wearing Dean’s shirt, he knew it was better than being shirtless, and risking getting scented by a hellhound, of all things. Gross.

Dean grabbed a water bottle for himself, as well, then picked up his jacket and headed toward the front door. “Alrighty, let’s get home. Time for you to see your new permanent residence….and I should probably check in, since I sort of went off the radar for the day.”

Closing the front door behind them, Dean turned toward the elevator, and without warning he reached out and grasped the back of Frank’s neck, his hold authoritative and commanding. “Come on, pet, let’s see if you know ‘heel,’” the demon said cheerfully, pushing Frank ahead of him in the private hallway. “We can work on ‘sit’ and ‘stay’ and ‘come’ later, Though I guess we did already cover ‘come,’” he added, laughing at his own joke.

Frank crossed his arms over his chest awkwardly, watching the digital numbers counting down as they sped back towards the underground garage. It was like he was truly descending into Hell, though he wasn’t even there yet. Still, weirdly unfunny.

The hand grabbing the back of his neck made him jerk before he was suddenly pushed toward, almost falling as the doors opened into the hallway. “Asshole,” he snapped, scowling at the demon. “Don’t fucking do that!”

“Don’t do what, play with my own toys?” Dean retorted, jingling his car keys cheerfully as he headed toward the Impala, shooting Frank a mocking look. “Best watch your mouth, sweetheart. I’ve been very nice so far, but I can always look for more interesting way to occupy you than sassing me.”

He opened the front passenger seat, pushing Frank into the car with another firm grip on his neck before rounding the vehicle to slide in himself. “Always did like getting road head,” Dean went on, giving Frank a look that was challenging, taunting, and hungry all at once. “Bet you’d be pretty sloppy too, since you’re a virgin. I could make you nice and messy before we get home.”

After being shoved back into the car before he could think of a reply, Frank scrunched himself in his seat as far away as the demon as possible, curling in on himself so that he could make himself look smaller.

It took him several moments to realize what Dean was implying. A lot of sexual innuendos usually flew right over the teenager’s head, and now was no exception, looking confused before he scowled again. “No. That’s stupidly dangerous, I’m not in the mood to get my head crushed just because you want me to suck you off.”

Dean rolled his eyes, reaching over to turn on the radio. “Oh, sweetheart, have a little faith in me. You think I’ve existed this long because I can’t drive with a mouth on my dick? Trust me, you’d live.”

He jerked his thumb toward a duffel back lying on the backseat. “That’s my travel clothes, if you still feel picky about wearin’ a shirt. Just don’t make a mess, we have to leave the car topside and I prefer her to stay nice and tidy when I can’t keep an eye on her.”

It was Dean’s one annoyance with Hell. The various points by which it could be entered wouldn’t accommodate anything like his Baby, so he had safe houses much like Crowley’s apartments to keep her in, depending on where he was going down below. For now, she’d stay safe in an abandoned garage while he took Frank to see Hell’s king.

Frank curled his lip but he did end up turning around to rifle through the duffle bag. There were a lot of t-shirts that had band logos on the front, some of them the teenager actually recognized. AC/DC, Led Zeppelin, Guns and Roses. Joe was more of a fan for the old rock bands. Frank preferred country.

Thankfully, he did find a rather thick plaid shirt and he tugged it on, a little pathetically grateful for the warmth. Then he put the clothes back in the duffle, setting it down before turning around again, still keeping his distance from the demon. “The King of Hell, huh? I’m sure this will be interesting,” he muttered sarcastically.

“Interesting’s a word for it,” Dean agreed with a snort, pulling off of the highway and heading through some trees to where he would stash the car. “He’s a businessman who got a promotion, but he doesn’t take anyone’s shit, so try and put a cork in the attitude at least a little bit.”

The demon glanced over at Frank and rolled his eyes at his huddled posture. “Okay, I’m pretty sure I’ve made it clear I’m not going to hurt you. I know you’re not so into me touching you, but that’s part of the deal, so suck it up. Relax, or you’re going to give yourself a heart attack.”

Getting out of the car, Dean nodded at one of the doors of the crumbling building, the glass window of which was broken. “That’s our portal. Hell awaits, handsome, let’s go,” he said, holding out a hand to gesture Frank forward ahead of him.

Frank just stayed silent as they pulled into the road through the trees. He would expect a King of Hell to be an uptight kind of character. He could remember all the assholes he had met through the years who were convinced they were royalty, or something similar, demanding the best of everything and lashing out at anyone who’s cough sounded like a laugh.

When they pulled up to an abandoned and broken house, Frank wasn’t all that impressed. He had expected old stone doorways with old devil sigils written all over them. But this? Maybe Hell was on a budget.

He got out of the car with some trepidation. While the portal didn’t look like much, he could still feel the prickling underneath his skin, warning him of danger. If he was going to try escaping, it would have to be now, because as soon as he walked through those doors it would be the point of no return. No being on the road anymore, no sunshine, no sense of comfort or home.

Frank could feel the warning signs of an oncoming anxiety attack, his heart pounding and his breathing becoming a bit labored. “C-couldn’t I have stayed in the apartment?”

“Well, the point is that you’re staying with me,” Dean replied, rolling his eyes and grasping Frank’s arm as he headed forward, pausing before he reached for the door. “And much as I prefer it up here, myself, I do have to report in, acknowledge various higher ups, and occasionally spend the night in my own place. If it helps, we’ll be back up here now and then,” he added, giving Frank a thoughtful look. “I’ll bring you with me.”

He reached out to touch the decayed wood of the door, then grasped the knob and turned it, and with a faint rush of supernaturally charged energy, what should have been an empty room spiraled away in front of them in a long, dark hallway. Torches hung from sconces on the stone walls, at very far away in the dim light, there was a sound like a cry of pain.

Dean stepped over the threshold, his eyes going black on instinct as he entered the passageway. “Stay close to me, and you’ll be fine,” he told Frank without looking at him, tugging the teenager forward with him as the door swung shut behind them by itself.

Frank was on high alert as soon as Dean practically yanked him into the tunnel. It was dark, even with the torches, and it smelled musty and thick. The distant cries of agony didn’t help either. He was in danger here, anything could attack him, but he couldn’t run, couldn’t make a run for it. All he could do was stumble alongside Dean, the demon keeping a good grip on his arm.

Dean walked with purpose, back in his own element and feeling the familiar subtle shift, like his body was somehow recharging being down here, dark energy gliding over his skin and feeling like a comforting touch in his mind. He’d long ago tuned out the sounds of screams, the occasional cracking of a whip or crunch of bone–but he knew that for Frank, this must be absolutely horror.

“You’ll be fine,” he repeated, looking at the younger man’s stricken face as they walked. Frank looked like Dean’s grip on his arm was the only thing keeping him moving forward. “Deals leave a mark on souls that we can see, so anyone who looks at you will know you belong to me. Blunt, but true. And since it’s a different kind of deal–lifelong, as it is–you’re safe as long as you follow the rules, okay?”

He paused as they passed an open archway, hearing the familiar clatter of claws scraping stone. The hounds were chained, positioned here to watch the portal and put up an alarm if someone unwelcome got through. But they merely watched him, eyeing Frank curiously.

Dean had never had the opportunity to explore what perks a “sold” mark on a soul might have. “Can you see them?” he asked Frank, nodding at the beasts that lounged five feet away from them. “It’s fine if you can’t, I’m just wondering.”

A mark on his soul… Lifelong debt… Frank hated hearing those words, even if Dean’s voice was the only thing keeping him from falling into a full blown panic attack. The sounds of Hell just got louder, the distant desperate pleads for help reaching his ears. Oh god, why would a place like this ever exist?

He was so out of it that he hadn’t realized they had stopped before Dean asked him if he could see the hellhounds. Dazed, he blinked up at the demon before turning his head towards the archway.

At first he couldn’t see anything, but after straining his eyes a little the hounds came into view. The only time he and Joe hunted a hellhound, Joe was the only one who could see it, and he couldn’t describe what it looked like, as he didn’t recognize the breed. But to Frank, they all looked like giant creatures, a mixture of mastiffs and the most violent dog breeds to ever exist; pit bulls, rottweilers, wolves… Their powerful jaws filled with sharp teeth, glowing red eyes fixed on him curiously.

He swallowed nervous. “Y-yeah…”

“Huh. Cool.” Dean nodded in interest, grinning at the fiendish canines before he turned to continue walking, still all but holding Frank up by his arm. “Despite their pretty looks, hellhounds are very specific weapons–they don’t just mindlessly attack anyone. I mean, the pups will, but they’re contained until they have a master who they’re trained to obey.”

He paused, tugging Frank around to look at him. “As long as you don’t try to escape, or piss off someone who’s got a hound with them, you won’t end up puppy chow, okay? Just…listen to me, on this. The dogs’ll snap and growl, but they’d get their hides whipped if they hurt a human soul without permission. Unless you provoke someone into siccing a hound on you, then you’re safe.”

They resumed walking, emerging now into a wider hallway with multiple branches. Dean nodded at the largest, which led up a stairway. “Throne room’s that way. You won’t ever have to see the inside of a cell if you behave,” he said a little darkly, tugging Frank past the halls and steel doors from beyond which the cries of pain and useless pleas for mercy were echoing.

At the top of the stairs, a massive double doorway stood open, revealing the large, dully grey stone room that Dean always found mind-numbingly boring. King or not, Crowley just handled a lot of numbers and reports. It wasn’t really that exciting for a demon. He slid into the room and immediately veered to one side, keeping Frank tightly beside him.

Frank gave a shaky nod at Dean’s advice. The very idea of being torn apart by hellhounds was scary enough, and truthfully he wasn’t sure how much more he could take in one day. This all felt like too much.

When they were walking past the cells towards the throne room, Frank flinched when he heard the unmistakable sound of a bone snapping, someone wailing in agony. That would have been him in ten years, if he had taken the other deal. And while the idea of Hell being a preferred punishment for truly bad people, he couldn’t help but wonder how many good people were down here. How many innocent souls used their deals to save loved ones, only to end up here as their reward, tortured every second of the day, with no rest or end in sight? It was heartbreaking, and the teen could feel his chest tighten as he struggled not to cry. Not here. He couldn’t cry here.

Suddenly they were in another room, and Dean was steering him in another direction. His eyes darted around, finding it looked rather…plain. This was a throne room?

Business as usual it seemed. Dean pursed his lips, watching the subdued atmosphere of the room, then sighed. “Well, good, I wasn’t missed for taking the day off. Guess it helps that I wrung up more souls than usual, waiting for you last night.”

He glanced down at Frank, raising an eyebrow. “You look ready to faint again. Do you want me to take you somewhere you can calm down? My ‘home’ isn’t far.” The demon smirked, his eyes flashing back to green, and glinting with laughter. “I won’t touch you till you’re breathing regularly again, promise.”

Frank was practically wheezing. He didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to even think of what was going on below their feet.

“I-I don’t f-feel g-good,” he whimpered, his stomach clenching. After everything he had been through, he felt like he finally reached rock bottom, literally. He was scared and out of his comfort zone, and he knew that Dean didn’t care, not really. He was probably just annoyed he was stuck with the kid now.

Dean paused, giving the teenager a more critical look-over. “Huh. You really are sick, aren’t you? I guess Hell’s a bit much for a human mind. Okay, let’s get you out of here before someone sniffs you out.”

He started to maneuver Frank back toward the stairs, but their path was blocked before they reached the doors. “Winchester.” The other demon smirked widely, glancing down at Frank with contempt and hunger. “What’s this, then, got a new playmate? Smells a little too human to be here, don’t you think?”


	3. Chapter 3

Dean bared his teeth, only refraining from growling out loud because he didn’t want to draw even more attention. “Fuck off, Tyson. We’re leaving. Get out of my way.”

“Why?” His grin widening, Tyson slid closer, reaching out to grasp Frank’s chin and lift it. “He’s awfully pretty–you should learn to share your toys, Winchester.”

Frank was struggling so hard with not passing out that when someone blocked their path he almost whined. He wanted to get out of here! Not be ogled like a piece of meat.

He felt Dean’s hands tightening on him, heard his growled reply, but that didn’t stop the other demon – another man – from grabbing his chin and forcing him to look up. Now this one… This one had no trouble with giving off demon vibes. His blond hair was perfectly combed, and his hazel eyes were nice to see at first glance, but everything about him radiated evil. His gaze was cold, if not a bit eager as he looked Frank over critically.

Oh god, was he suddenly going to be a demon magnet now? Did being bound to Dean give him a bigger target on his back? The only thing Frank knew was that if he didn’t get out of here fast then he was going to throw up and that would not bode well for him.

Dean let out a noise that would rival a hellhound’s warning snarl, smacking Tyson’s hand away visibly enough to redden the skin slightly. “And when someone doesn’t share their toys, we know better than to grab them, don’t we, Tyson? He’s not up for grabs, keep fucking walking.”

There was silence behind them; they’d caught the court’s attention. Dean ignored it, physically shoving the other demon out of his way and grabbing Frank by the back of his neck again in order to essentially drag him out of the room.

“There’ll be shit hitting the fan for that later,” he grumbled, eyes black and flashing with fury. “Crowley’s gonna be pissed at me for hitting him, even if it was hardly a tap.” He glanced down at Frank, tilting his face up with two fingers to look into his eyes. “You still conscious? Christ, beautiful, you’re white as a ghost. Do you get anxiety attacks often?”

Dean grabbing the back of his neck made Frank feel…not like himself. Small. Weaker. Weaker, anyway. Just…oddly disconnected to himself, like he was aware of his own body trying to keep up with the demon, but at the same time he wasn’t completely…there.

Then he was looking up into Dean’s eyes, and for once the demon actually looked concerned, asking him about anxiety attacks. “N-no,” he stammered. “N-not o-often, b-but never t-this bad–” Suddenly his stomach seemed to revolt and Frank clamped a hand over his mouth a split second before he started throwing up, immediately turning away so that Dean wouldn’t be caught in any of the spray.

It was too much, too much, everything was overwhelming him, the accident, Joe almost dying, making a deal with a demon, losing so much sleep and now Hell, and now he was sick, oh god, he didn’t mean to get sick!

“I-I’m sorry!” he cried out, coughing. “I’m s-so sorry, I didn’t mean–!” It was like he was in a totally different personality, one that was far more submissive than he had been earlier.

Dean sighed when Frank’s stomach seemed to finally catch onto his horror, twisting out of the way and waiting it out.

“You’re fine,” he answered quietly, waiting till Frank had stopped throwing up before he stepped close again, reaching out to gently stroke his sweaty hair back from his face. “C'mon, I’ll take you downstairs and we can run you a shower or a bath or something. You need to rest.”

He knew better than to let any of his fellow demons see him treat the human with kindness, but the fact was, Dean wasn’t a heartless bastard. Being a demon came with a degree of sadism, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t be gentle when he wanted to be. He still had memories of caring for someone when he was needed, and sometimes, well, sometimes Dean liked that.

Wrapping an arm around Frank’s waist, Dean carefully maneuvered the teenager down to the next level of Hell, along a hallway that was less dark and damp–more of something out of a fancy Vegas hotel, because Dean was a whiny nuisance and Crowley had caved–and into his own apartment.

Frank almost flinched when Dean raised his hand, almost expecting to finally get hit for getting sick, but instead the demon just brushed his hair out of his face and told him that they were going to his own apartment to get cleaned up.

At least this time they were walking a little slower, Dean’s hand on his hip to help guide him along. Frank just focused on taking some more deep breaths to make sure he didn’t suddenly heave again, because he kind of felt bad for throwing up in the first place and he didn’t need to feel that happening a second time. Plus his hands were still kind of dripping and that was disgusting.

When they reached the apartment, the first thing he realized was that he couldn’t hear any tortured screaming, couldn’t hear anything pertaining to the sounds that the cells carried. Perhaps that meant they were far enough away from the cells; he certainly hoped so. Blinking his aching eyes, he looked around the place, noticing that it looked very similar to the penthouses he and Joe had stayed in many times during their cases; large and spacious and kind of fancy, it looked like any modern penthouse. It even had a huge flatscreen TV over a fireplace, (since when did Hell need fireplaces? Wasn’t the whole place made of fire?) and a large wall window on the far end of the room, though the view he was seeing was impossible. It looked like Vegas, but they were underground? How?

His head throbbed and he had to close his eyes again. “W-where’s the bathroom?” he asked a bit timidly.

Pausing only long enough to close and lock his door–Dean was assuming that Crowley would want to see what the hell his scuffle with Tyson had been about, while the King didn’t care about locked doors, at least it would enforce the concept that he should knock first–Dean turned back toward Frank, sighing.

“This way,” he said, grasping his arm one more time and guiding Frank past the lavish living area and into a massive bedroom. The structure of the place had already been there, but he’d gotten to decorate it how he liked. It was actually fairly eclectic; some touches of overly-obvious glamor, meant to mimic things like Vegas and cruises and fancy shit like that, but there were pieces that reminded Dean of his childhood, too, and echoes of a life lived with little to nothing, always on the move.

The master bathroom was fucking fantastic, of course, because Dean couldn’t help taking advantage of being allowed to indulge. The bath was massive as was the shower, and he led Frank in, then hesitated. “Which would you rather?” he asked the teenager, releasing him to choose how he wanted to clean off. “I’ll bring you fresh clothes, too. Probably just burn what you’re wearing, the smell vomit never really goes away.”

He let the demon guide him into the bathroom, eyes widening a little in surprise at the glamour of the place. He didn’t think of demons as being hygienic, but when you’re an immortal being of Hell maybe you got to have a few perks.

“M-maybe a bath…” he said quietly. “I-if that’s okay…?”

“Yeah.” Dean crossed to the bath, plugging it and starting the water. “When you’re here, you’re safe, alright? No one but the King walks in unannounced, and even he doesn’t, really–he’d never say it out loud, but he’s still a little afraid of me from when I was human. I suspect he thinks I still want him dead, though I honestly really don’t care.”

Dean chuckled quietly, turning back around. “You can check if that’s too hot for you. Maybe wash your face a little in the sink too, you, uh, still have a bit of a mess around your mouth,” he said, nudging the teenager toward the ornate counter. “I can go grab you some clean stuff to wear after. I’ll be right back.”

Frank nodded, watching the demon leave before he turned back to the tub, putting his hand under the spout as he tested around with the water. Finally he settled on a good temperature and shakily stripped himself down as he waited for the tub to fill, finding a bar of soap as he waited. When he deemed the tub deep enough, he managed to climb in, submerging himself completely up to his neck with a sigh.

Now that he was in a relatively “normal” setting, the worst of his anxiety attack was over. Now he just felt drained, and he wanted nothing more than to just sit in the hot water for the rest of his life, not having to worry about anything else.

From his own dresser, Dean dug out a pair of jeans that he thought might fit the teenager’s slimmer physique, and then after some deliberation he went to the closet for another flannel. Frank had seemed comforted by the worn-in texture and warmer material of that kind of shirt, and besides, these did tend to smell more like Dean himself. It would be better if everything about Frank radiated Dean’s claim over him, for demons as well as hellhounds. He didn’t need anyone thinking they could touch what was his.

Returning to the bathroom, Dean set the folded clothes beside the sink, then paused. “I don’t have much in the way of underwear,” he said, glancing over at Frank and noting with relief how much more at ease the human looked, sunk back in the hot water and eyes closed as he rested. “And you’re not going to need them much, so I’m not terribly tempted to get any.”

Crossing over to the tub, Dean sank onto the wide marble ledge that ran along it, dipping his fingers into the water and enjoying the warmth. “Do you want any help washing off?” the demon offered quietly, wondering if there was any possibility that Frank was going to willingly say yes.

Frank opened his eyes when the door opened, tensing slightly as Dean walked in talking about not having any underwear that would fit the teen, but he felt kind of relieved that he brought in some clothes he could wear. He almost expected the demon to say he couldn’t wear clothes anymore.

At his offer to help wash him off, Frank hesitated a little before sitting up cautiously. “I can’t reach my back,” he replied, a bit shyly. “Could you, um… Could you help me with that?”

It was taking a lot to extend this kind of trust to the demon. He could very easily try to hurt Frank in this position, but Dean seemed to have changed into a completely different person than from this morning. Like he honestly cared about the teen. He was already stuck with Dean for all eternity, Frank supposed he had nothing else to really lose at this point.

Dean nodded, shifting until he situated more behind where Frank reclined in the tub, and grabbing the soap and a sponge. Getting some lather worked up, he gently began scrubbing the teen’s skin, pressing his fingertips into the muscle around the sponge anywhere that he could feel knots of tension beneath Frank’s skin.

“We’re going to have to have some rules,” the demon said, eyes on what he was doing and not wandering much, despite how attractive he knew Frank’s body was. His voice remained soft, and neutral. “About behavior, rewards and punishments, what you can do and where you can and can’t go. No matter how much you hate me, you gotta obey me. It’s for your general safety, as well as for stability in our…dynamic.”

He glanced toward the door, eyes flashing black at the thought of other demons sniffing around his pet. “Tyson wasn’t the only one who will think you’re pretty, or that it would be fun to steal you. My claim’s only as strong as I keep it, and if you wanted to, you could find someone down here willing to fuck me over by overwriting it and taking your soul, themselves.” Dean snorted. “I suggest not trying, though. Most demons at my level would prefer getting a chance to make you bleed.”

God those hands… Frank almost melted as those hands started washing his back, rubbing against the skin and working the kinks out. Who knew a demon could give wonderful massages?

At the mention of rules, he listened carefully. The idea of other demons trying to move in on him made his insides feel cold, and knew Dean wasn’t lying either. The way Tyson eyed him earlier, like he was a particularly new thing to destroy, to break in every possible way, it terrified him. For the first time Frank realized that he had to rely on Dean for protection. And if that meant having to follow the rules Dean would lay out, then he would have to swallow his pride and follow them.

“I understand,” he replied, going a little limp as his eyes felt a bit hot.

“Good.” Dean continued what he was doing, working the stress out of Frank’s back and then setting the soap aside to gently begin rinsing the suds away from his back, his nails dragging ever-so-lightly over the skin as well.

He paused when he heard the faint catch in the teen’s voice, and Dean leaned sideways in order to see his face a little better. The demon sighed when he saw the unmistakable glitter of tears in those pretty grey eyes.

“You’re gonna be fine,” he said, his voice low and gravel-rough. “Thing is, kid, you’re a certain type, and I’ve seen it before. If you stop clinging to the belief that you’re supposed to be self-reliant, capable, independent, whatever–you’ll find it much easier than you seem to think you will, to just relax and let me run things. I never plan to hurt you outside of necessary punishment…or if you discover a kink for it, I am all about sexual exploration,” he added, smiling weakly. “I do intend to look after you.”

His fingers drifted a little further, the pads sliding gently over the curve of Frank’s neck and throat, brushing the top of his chest beneath the water. “Including in ways you may not realize yet that you’ll want to be taken care of,” Dean murmured, his mind flashing back to the way that Frank had arched so fucking beautifully into his touch when the teenager had come earlier that day.

Frank turned his eyes towards the demon’s face when Dean mentioned he was a certain type of person. Noticing how Dean’s eyes flashed black and how his fingers brushed against his neck and collarbone, Frank couldn’t help but remember what happened this morning, how Dean had basically woke him up with an orgasm so strong that it almost left the teen reeling. His cheeks flushed at the memory.

“You think I’m a sub,” he said quietly. “I’m not that naive, I promise. I… I had questions about things that I didn’t wanna ask, so I just…looked it up online. But…” He swallowed and looked away, embarrassed. “I spent my whole life looking after my brother, and my mother and my aunt whenever my dad left town. I’m so used to helping and taking care of other people, I… I don’t know. I have to be in control, at all times, or things go wrong… I don’t know how to give control to someone else.”

Dean chuckled softly, nodding as he listened. It was a relief to know that Frank had some idea of where his train of thought had been heading. Innocence was sexy enough in some capacity, but it helped when the subject knew at least something about this stuff.

“Being heaped with responsibilities your whole life doesn’t mean you’re not the submissive type,” he observed, continued his delicate stroking over Frank’s collarbones and shoulders, hoping to soothe the human’s anxious mind. “Just means you’ve had a lot of expectations on you your whole life.”

The demon smirked, bringing one hand back and sliding it up through Frank’s hair lightly, scratching at his scalp. “As for control, that’s probably going to be our next lesson, then. You already don’t have any, sweetheart, that’s what I’m attempting to convey. You took the deal, you kissed the devil, so to speak. You’re mine, now.”

Tightening his fingers just slightly, Dean tilted Frank’s head back, letting his eyes return to green as he stared down at him. “You don’t have to ‘know how.’ You just have to let it happen. So when I tell you something–to skip the clothes, to kneel, to let me touch you, etc–don’t think. Don’t debate or argue with yourself or try to work out what I want and get there quicker. Just obey, and enjoy the rewards that you’ll get for being a good boy.” He grinned, a feral edge to the expression. “I promise, I can be very generous with those rewards when I’m pleased.”

Those fingers were going to be the death of him, so utterly soothing as they stroked his skin, scratched at his scalp, that he was barely paying attention to Dean’s words. No self control? Well he supposed that was true enough. 90% of the time, he did have control, but where Joe was concerned it was like all caution flew out the window, any logical reasoning wouldn’t be able to calm him down. And honestly, Joe almost dying was a good excuse if any to lose control and make a deal with a demon.

Suddenly Dean gripped at his hair, tugging his head back. Startled, Frank’s eyes widened, lips parting a little in surprise as Dean’s eyes flashed once more, his voice sultry but firm as he promised good things if Frank didn’t overthink any orders. Before he could even register what was being said, the teen could feel heat beginning to coil in his gut, his cock hardening at the demon’s tone and the rather feral look on his face. He swallowed, giving a small nod. “I-I’ll try…”

Nodding at Frank’s concession, Dean smiled warmly down at him, and then he finally let his gaze roam over Frank. When he noticed what was going on beneath the water, the demon’s lips widened into a proper smirk, and he leaned down, letting his mouth brush Frank’s ear as he murmured to him.

“Seems you like the idea of giving up control to me,” he pointed out, keeping his fingers tight on the boy’s dark hair. “Or maybe it was that little tug on your head, hm? Did you like the bit of sensation you got from that?”

Dean turned his face, closing his teeth over Frank’s earlobe and giving it a hard, playful nip. “I’m going to make you feel good, pet. Just relax and let me touch you, and don’t overthink anything.”

He leaned down further, the hand not holding Frank’s hair slipping into the water and downward, trailing tauntingly over chis chest–pausing there for a heartbeat, the pad of his finger grazing over and around one taut nipple, then moving on–along the faint ridges of the teenager’s well-defined stomach, and then down to where Dean could trace his fingertips along the length of Frank’s hardening cock, just teasing him for now.

Frank stayed still, his face turning a brighter shade of red as Dean slid his hand down against his skin, underneath the water. He didn’t know if this was a good idea to go so quickly, but Dean wanted him to try. The rules were for his safety, and Dean, for the moment, wanted to make him feel good, for whatever reason.

His breathing quickened as he felt fingers against his cock, teasing it. For a split second, his hands moved as if to push the demon away, but he managed to stop himself, curling his fingers into a fist and biting his lip as he tried not to moan.

“Oh, good boy,” Dean purred, nodding so that his cheek brushed Frank’s as he watched the teenager’s hands. “That’s it, very good, don’t fight it.” In reward, he closed his hand properly around Frank’s cock, giving it a few firm strokes beneath the water to bring him to full hardness.

“Sit up a little more,” he instructed, shifting to be more comfortable as he leaned over Frank. “Place your hands palm-flat on your thighs for me. Stroke them a little bit, see if it helps you feel even better. Wanna open those fists up, get you to relax completely for me,” Dean murmured, his lips grazing the sensitive skin at Frank’s temple as he spoke.

His breathing hitched, closing his eyes as he obeyed. His hands gripped at his own thighs, legs spreading even more in reaction as Dean stroked him fully, those fingers grasping his cock with the perfect amount of tightness and friction.

“O-oh,” he whimpered, trying to keep his moans quiet. His hips squirmed, cock straining for more friction, for more stroking. “D-Dean…”

Dean couldn’t stop his grin, all wildness and pride and lust as he watched the teenager coming apart at the seams. “Mmm, that’s it, baby boy, that’s the way,” the demon purred in encouragement, twisting his wrist just right to make sure that his fingers squeezed around the head of Frank’s cock,his thumb pressing into the slit a little and then back away, down the shaft.

“Love how you say my name,” he added, turning to trace his tongue along the shell of Frank’s ear, his voice hot and rough. “Wanna hear you moaning it for me, sweetheart, don’t hold back your noises. Let me hear everything you’ve got, beautiful.”

With his free hand, Dean got a better grip on Frank’s hair, using it to tilt his head to the side and expose his neck to the demon’s lips. His tongue danced from Frank’s ear, down the line of his jaw until it rested over his pulse, feeling the soft hammering of the blood flow beneath his lips. “You getting close, handsome?”

“O-oh g-god!” Frank stiffened, the arousal coursing through his body at heightened intensity. The hand stroking him under the water, the lips against his neck, it was making his skin feel hot, hotter than it had ever felt. “Y-yes!”

One of his hands reached up to grab onto Dean’s arm, not to stop him, but just for something to hold onto. His body wouldn’t stop moving, hips jerking in time with the thrusts. “Yes I-I’m close, p-please–” he whined.

Pure, animalistic pleasure speared through Dean when he felt Frank grabbing at his arm, all of Frank’s reserve and distrust seemingly dropped in a hot flash as the younger man tumbled toward his climax at the demon’s hand. It was progress, and he reveled in it.

“Well, since you said ‘please,’” Dean teased him with a dark chuckle. “Come when you’re ready, sweetheart, go ahead–wanna see you fall apart like that again for me, you’re being so fucking good for me.”

_ For your Master _ . He could say it, but he didn’t yet. No need to risk disturbing the moment. Dean tightened his hand around Frank’s cock and sped up his stroking, biting a small, light mark into the teenager’s throat as he did, claiming his pet as his.

It was a combination of several things; Dean’s hand tightening and stroking faster, the demon’s voice in his ear and the bite to his neck, it all sent Frank over the edge. He came with a choked cry, his body almost jerking out of Dean’s grip in react, riding out the orgasm just like he had done this morning.

When he managed to hit the afterglow part, he lay back against the edge of the tub, panting and twitching slightly, eyes suddenly heavy as a wave of sleepiness overtook him.

Dean continued growling praise and encouragement and a few obscenities in Frank’s ear when the teenager came, stroking him through it eagerly. Distantly, he wished that Frank wasn’t in the bathtub for this, so he could smear the boy’s come around on his skin, maybe force him to lick it from the demon’s fingers, but oh well. Next time.

Releasing him, Dean lifted his dripping hand to Frank’s face, turning him to meet Dean’s blazing green eyes. “You were beautiful, baby boy, utterly stunning.” he breathed out. “Good boy.” He kissed Frank’s lips once, lightly, then pulled back again.

“You ready to sleep?” he asked gently. “Can you dry yourself off, first, if I help you out of the tub?”

He hadn’t been expecting the kiss, as brief as it was, but it woke him up enough to hear what Dean was asking and he nodded. “Y-yeah… The water might get cold, that wouldn’t be comfortable.”

Frank kind of felt…confused. This morning he had been all ready to fight against Dean for waking him up with a handjob, to kick and scream and yell that he felt violated, even though he knew such an event would end in a punishment. And he still felt dirty, underneath his skin, for even allowing this to happen.

But for the time being, any fight he had was gone. He just wanted to dry off, get into some clothes and curl up in a bed to sleep again.

Nodding, Dean slipped off of the ledge, holding out his hands to grasp Frank’s and help him very carefully to his feet. “Alright, sweetheart. You’ll get to sleep, don’t worry. Just stay conscious for a little longer.”

Being helped out of the tub and dried off, Frank felt rather childish, but it wasn’t an entirely bad feeling. It made him remember of the countless times his mother would help him out and dry him off when he was much, much younger. How safe he would feel knowing that she would always be there, a child’s wish that she would never leave him.

The difference between his mother drying him off when he was still a child and Dean drying him off now was that it felt more intimate with Dean, and Frank wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Dean was rather gentle in this task, which was just one more surprise that the teenager hadn’t been expecting.

Thankfully, Dean still supported him as they wandered into the bedroom, the slight chill in the air making Frank shiver some. “M-maybe some pajamas, if you have any?” he asked. “I don’t… I’m not used to sleeping naked.”

Dean paused as he carefully let Frank slump onto the edge of the ornate bed, eyeing the teenager thoughtfully. It didn’t seem as if Frank had a manipulative bone in his body, and while with almost anyone else Dean would see the request as an attempt to regain some control–and to override his rules–this time, all he could see was the vulnerability and loneliness in the younger man’s eyes, and Dean decided he actually wanted to be kind to the human.

“Yeah,” he answered quietly, straightening up. “You can stay dressed, tonight.” He walked back to his dresser, digging out an old pair of sweatpants–he never wore them, but hey, comfort clothes were nice–and a battered t-shirt that had once had a logo bearing the words  _ The Roadhouse _ , before it faded from old age.

Returning to the bed, Dean surprised even himself by dropping to a crouch, holding out the pants for Frank to slide his feet into.

He blinked a bit sluggishly at Dean in surprise. He was going to let him wear clothes tonight? When the demon proceeded to pull out a pair of sweatpants, Frank relaxed a little, relieved.

Once the demon was in front of him, holding the pants open as if he were a child, Frank blushed but obediently got to his feet, stepping into the comfortable sweats and let Dean pull them up. For the first time he could smell the slight sulfur scent clinging to Dean’s skin, as well as leather and gasoline. For an odd reason it wasn’t a bad combination. Or maybe he was so tired that it made sense to his overworked brain.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

A tiny smile flickered over Dean’s face, and he glanced up at Frank, jade eyes glittering in the synthetic light that filtered in through the closed curtains of the bedroom window. He always left the living one open because it was fun to pretend it was actually Vegas, but here in the quiet peace of the bedroom, Dean sometimes found himself hating the lie.

“You’re welcome,” he answered, sincerity in his tone. “Do not get used to it, though, most nights I’ll prefer you…much less dressed.” Dean’s fingers stroked absently over Frank’s ankles and calves as he spoke, enjoying the smooth, freshly-washed and still-warm texture of the teenager’s skin. “But today has been brutal for you, and I can understand that.”

He stood up against, pulling back the pale gold blanket. “I don’t require sleep, but that’s not to say I don’t enjoy laying down now and then, so if you feel the bed shift, it’s just me. For now, get some rest.” Dean cocked his head, studying Frank’s tired face; on impulse, he reached out and smoothed the damp strands of his hair back from his face. “Do you need any water, or anything?”

Frank nodded, watching as Dean touched his legs before getting to his own feet. He was used to how Joe would sometimes climb into bed with him after one of them had a bad dream. Being close had been a comfort, and even though Dean didn’t seem prepared to hurt or touch him badly tonight, Frank still felt the ache in his chest at knowing he and Joe probably would never be able to be that close again.

At the demon’s question to if he wanted anything, Frank shook his head wearily. “No, I think I’m okay for a while. But thanks.” He crawled into the bed, the silk sheets absolutely heaven against his sore skin. He couldn’t resist curling up, resting his head on the amazingly comfortable pillow, as if it was designed just for individual comfort. Already he could feel his eyes getting heavier, unable to keep them open.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for missing Thursday's update! I believe my justification is "I was at Beauty and the Beast opening night and forgot to tell Hardy to post." XD

Dean watched the boy cuddle into the bed–it was certainly an impossibly comfortable one, he’d been determined to go all-out and have only the best in his sanctuary–and smiled faintly. He was buzzing with just a little too much energy to lie down, given the novelty of the day, and his brief burst of rage toward Tyson.

He wandered into the living room, reliving their stop at the topside apartment as he dropped onto the couch and turned on the television, wondering distantly how long Frank would need to sleep this time. They’d need to correct his sleep schedule after his all-nighter with his brother.

Several hours later, he felt a familiar hum of power, and then there was a knock at the front door. Sighing, Dean dragged himself over to it and opened it a small amount. “Crowley.”

“Dean.” The King looked as bored as Dean did defensive. “So. Care to tell me about the human, and why you nearly bit Tyson over it?”

Shaking his head, Dean stepped back to let Crowley inside, since he was alone. “Not important. I made a deal that involved getting everything, not just his soul, and now he’s mine. Tyson should keep his greedy paws off of other people’s toys.”

Crowley rolled his eyes, glancing toward the cracked bedroom door. “A pissing contest over a human soul is beneath you. What’s special about it?”

“Him,” Dean muttered in annoyance. “Nothing special, okay? Just–he’s mine. I liked him, I made the deal, and he won’t be in anyone’s way. Not a problem.”

The King shrugged, stepping closer to the bedroom door and nudging it to glance inside. “He’s in your bed. Pretty, though, you are right about that. So...basically you were thinking with your dick.”

Dean grit his teeth, tugging the door closed in Crowley’s face and returning to drop onto the couch with an aggravated sigh. “You got twice my usual intake from the rest of the night. This really doesn’t need to draw your concern.”

Frank dreamed again, of home this time, his mother and aunt still alive, setting the table as they chatted, with Joe buzzing around the kitchen trying to sneak a taste of dinner like always, his father at the stove fixing some mashed potatoes. It felt so…normal, that for a moment Frank could almost think that it was real. That everything that happened was a dream. Of course Mom and Aunt Trudy were still alive! Why wouldn’t they be? And of course his father didn’t abandon them, content in just staying home and hearing about his sons’ days at school. And Joe, happy go lucky as always, snatching a cookie before Aunt Trudy could scold him about ruining dinner.

Frank stayed in the doorway, watching it all, relaxed. Yes, this was the home he remembered. Aunt Trudy, brisk and stern but always with those sparkling eyes behind her glasses, her sharp words masking their concern for whenever he and Joe had to go on a case. Not the withered old woman who died from grief, believing her brother dead.

And Mom, so colorful, so lively, her blue eyes lighting up every time she saw him and Joe. His little brother was more like her everyday, in looks and in personality. This was how Frank tried to remember her, with her soft words and loving touch, not the broken and battered woman dying in the hospital, her face so scarred and swollen that he barely recognized her as he stayed by her bedside, begging her to stay.

Joe… Frank had to watch his brother slowly wilt, the color seeming to drain from everything he was, the mischief in his eyes turning to constant fear and desperation. Living on the road as hunters did not do well for Joe Hardy. There was too much sadness and evil in the world hitting him from all directions.

Frank’s eyes traveled back to his father. The man who he all but worshipped as a child, strong and rugged, the way a man should be in his imagination. He even resembled Fenton more than he would like now, with the dark hair and the steady grey eyes. He was the one who guided the boys to follow in his footsteps, who offered support and advice, before disappearing abruptly, as if he had never existed in the first place.

His dream must have followed the dark thoughts, because the walls suddenly were covered in flames. Frank was almost frozen in horror as his family seemed to turn into smoke right before his eyes, vanishing within the heat and the brightness of the fire, leaving him alone, screaming and in pain as his skin seemed to burn right off.

The teenager jerked awake, a silent cry stuck in his throat. It took him a moment to remember where he was, feeling the sheets beneath him and looking around the room. As soon as his panic had passed, he became aware that the door was closed and he could hear voices behind it. Dean’s, he recognized. The other was foreign, quite literally.

“My point is, you can’t go around getting into little pissy fights with everyone over any little thing. The boy had better be damn well-behaved, or I will have to do something formal and public about it so no one thinks that this is favoritism.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Favoritism? You’re scared of what I’d do if you took him away, don’t lie.” He stood up, stalking past the King and entering his kitchen to mix a drink. “Want anything? I have scotch.” At Crowley’s affirming hum, he poured a second glass and carried it in. “Here. Hang on.”

Dean strode over to the bedroom door, cracking it open to glance inside. When he saw the faint glimmer of eyes peering back at him, he sighed, opening it a little further and stepping inside.

“Hey. You feeling social? The King’s dying to meet you,” he said, scowling as he took a sip of his beverage. “He’s doubting my claim on you, apparently. The asshole.”

“Heard that.” Crowley’s voice drifted through, and Dean rolled his eyes, offering Frank his hand.

Frank had figured whoever had come to talk to Dean would leave soon, so he had pulled a pillow to his chest in an attempt to try and fall asleep again. When the door opened and Dean looked in, Frank opened his eyes to lock gazes with the demon.

The King. So that was who the voice belonged to. Vaguely European in tone… Irish, perhaps? Still, Frank didn’t dare imagine what would happen if he refused, so he reluctantly pushed himself out of bed and went to take Dean’s hand, his mind too sleep fogged to instinctively pull away from the touch. Besides, Dean wanted that didn’t he? No hesitation, to warring in his head over anything simple.

When Dean led him out back into the living room, Frank blinked a few times against the harsh lighting as compared to the soft glow of the bedroom before looking at the man standing there holding a glass in his hands. He was kind of short, scruffy looking despite the very obviously expensive suit. Something about those eyes made Frank on guard, something manipulative. He had seen eyes like those before, many times, and none of them promised good things.

Dean led the way back to the living room, guiding Frank to the sofa and directing with a nudge for him to sit down. The demon himself remained standing, staring moodily into space as he continued sipping his drink, not bothering to say anything.

The King rolled his eyes at Dean’s attitude, turning his attentive gaze toward Frank. “So. You’re Dean’s new plaything. My apologies, darling. He can be so rough with his toys.” A smirk flickered over his face, eyes darting to Dean, but the standing man gave no reaction, and Crowley shrugged.

“You can call me Crowley, or Your Majesty, whichever,” he informed the teenager. “You should know that there’s been some discontent about your presence here.”

“That doesn’t concern him any more than his ‘presence’ concerns you,” Dean interrupted coldly. “If someone wants to challenge me, there are rules. I don’t know why you’re wasting your time.”

Crowley shrugged. “Nor do I, really, it seems that Brady misrepresented your disagreement as being more significant than it was. The boy has your mark on his soul. Doesn’t matter to me if you keep him, or kill him.” He stood, straightening his jacket with a huffy little sigh. “Just try not to cause any more public scenes, hm?”

Dean didn’t look up. “So we’re done?”

“Mmm.” Crowley turned his attention to Frank, narrowing his eyes. “Try not to wander off, boy, or you might just get snatched up. What possessed you to accept a deal that landed you in Dean’s hands, I can’t imagine. Good luck,” he said tauntingly, turning to leave.

Obviously this “man” had been a demon far longer than Dean had been. The way he held himself, like he earned respect, like his ego was inflated to the corners of the room, he definitely expected Frank to fear him.

And while he was a little afraid – this creature could probably kill him with a snap of his fingers – it did concern him more than his being here was enough to make the other demons antsy. But none of them would challenge Dean, would they? He was pretty damn terrifying in his own right.

Frank stayed silent, looking between the King of Hell and Dean like their exchange was a tennis match of sorts. Obviously Dean had no issues with disrespecting Crowley, he could sense it, could see the finer details of the shift of power here. Crowley was the King, but Dean was the one he feared, even if he was hiding it very well. Just one more reason why being a detective for so many years came in handy. In all honesty, Frank was now a little curious as to why Dean hadn’t challenged Crowley for the throne. He made a scarier King.

He said nothing as Crowley seemed to taunt him before leaving the “apartment” before glancing up at Dean. “Am I in any trouble for being here?” he asked hesitantly.

As soon as the door closed behind Crowley, Dean relaxed marginally, his shoulders slumping and his eyes returning to green. “No,” he murmured, glancing over at Frank and offering the teenager a small, bitterly amused smile. “Hell and its demons…we’re like a pack of half-trained fighting dogs. Thrown together in one pit, we’re far too likely to try and tear each other apart.”

He shrugged, moving to sit down beside Frank on the sofa, and propped his feet up on the coffee table. “I suppose it’s the lack of our own souls, or maybe being a demon contorts your actual personality. But it’s damn near impossibility for two of us to interact and not end up with someone trying to backstab the other.” Dean scowled. “And we can be petty. Anyone sees that I actually like having you around, then they’d think it’s funny to try and fuck with you.”

Tilting his head back against the sofa, Dean sighed, setting his glass down on the end table. “But I won’t let that happen. My deal–my pet.” His gaze cut toward Frank as he said it, as if gauging his reaction. “Like I said, I’m going to look after you. So don’t worry about any of that, okay?”

Dean actually liked having Frank around? It had only been a day! Well, maybe two, he wasn’t sure how long he had been asleep. Naps had always been rather difficult for him to come out of. He’d fall asleep intending to nap for twenty minutes and would end up waking four hours later not sure what day it was.

His cheeks flushed when Dean looked at him, and the teen dropped his eyes, unable to hold eye contact. “Worry is kind of second nature to me,” he admitted. “I can’t remember what life was like before I started worrying about things all the time.”

Dean smirked slightly, sitting up straighter and reaching over to catch Frank’s jaw with his hand, turning his face back towards the demon. “We’ll break you of that,” he murmured, his thumb stroking over the line of Frank’s cheekbone. “Eventually, you’ll see what I meant when you were in the bath. Letting me be in charge will be a comfort to you.”

He stood then, taking his glass back to the kitchen and then leaning against the center island as he studied Frank across the room, green eyes intense. “Come over here,” Dean instructed softly, nodding to indicate the carpeted floor in front of him. “And lose the shirt.”

Frank wasn’t sure if that was a good idea. Losing control usually meant losing control of the situation, in any situation. All of his training in detective work meant having control. To lose that, Frank was concerned he would lose a part of himself in the process, just like every time when he was helpless, at the mercy of someone dangerous and psychotic. He still had nightmares about Misty Falls.

He stayed silent, watching Dean as the demon went into the kitchen before looking back at him. At his soft order, the teen hesitated a moment before warily getting to his feet and shuffling closer, reluctantly taking off the shirt.

Taking the shirt out of Frank’s hands, Dean hung it over a kitchen chair for later. The teenager was making a valiant effort to comply with the whole  _ just let it happen _ rule, and Dean was inclined to give him his preferences–like having clothing on–as a reward, now and then.

His eyes took in Frank’s bare skin, a shadow flicker over the emerald green irises as Dean drew a deep breath, feeling something like hunger rise in his chest. Reaching out, he settled his palm over Frank’s heart, feeling the warmth of his skin and the unsteady hammering of a heart full of life. Sometimes the demon forgot what that felt like.

“Get on your knees,” Dean instructed next, dropping his hand from Frank’s chest. He wasn’t sure how far he was going to push the human right now, but he was itching with excess energy after seeing Crowley, and he needed something. Wanted to re-lay his claim on Frank, in a way.

The hand over his heart felt warm, almost familiar. Certainly not what a demon should feel like, in Frank’s opinion. It was probably familiar due to the fact that Dean had been touching him a lot in the last couple of days.

At the order, however, Frank almost recoiled. He had a good idea of what was going to happen and his first instinct was to flee, to hide or at least try to put up a fight, even though he knew Dean could snap his neck faster than he could blink. He started trembling, frozen in place for several long moments before he forced himself to his knees, movements a bit choppy from fear.

Dean watched the flashes of emotion that sparked in Frank’s eyes as he processed the command–fear and resistance, something rebellious that was doused the instant it ignited. He knew better. The demon smirked faintly, watching Frank reach resignation before sinking unsteadily to kneel in front of Dean.

“Good,” he praised him quietly, reaching out to stroke his fingers through Frank’s hair. “You’re getting faster with reacting. Good boy.”

He stepped closer to the kneeling teenager, his fingers tightening into Frank’s hair and drawing his face forward so that his forehead rested against Dean’s thigh, nose and lips pressing against denim.

“Have you ever imagined sucking someone’s cock before?” Dean asked quietly. He wasn’t going to waste breath asking if Frank had done it; he knew the answer. But he was curious if it was something the boy had ever wanted to try, in all his fantasies about being in love with his partner.

Frank was sure his face was bright red again, squeezing his eyes shut as Dean grabbed onto his hair. Getting a faceful of denim and thigh wasn’t what he expected or wanted, and he instinctively reached up to grab Dean’s leg, pushing a little so he could try to breathe just a little better.

“N-no,” he stammered. “I-it always sounded g-gross, why would I want someone’s d-dick in my mouth?!”

Feeling Frank’s fingers clenching against his leg, even if it was more self-defensive than anything needy or erotic, sent heat surging straight to Dean’s dick, and he sighed out a small laugh, tugging again to tilt Frank’s head back and meeting his gaze.

“Because it feels fucking amazing,” he replied, smirking. “You overthink things way too much, sweetheart. Need to ditch that habit and just trust that what I want for you is going to feel good, even if it’s difficult or uncomfortable at first. If nothing else, pleasing me and earning a reward for later should feel pretty satisfying.”

Still smiling smugly, Dean moved his free hand to his belt, slowly sliding the leather band free of the buckle. “Now, it’s rare to get it right the first time, so it’s fine that you’re going to be sloppy and unable to take it too deep. I just haven’t gotten off since yesterday, so I need a little something.”

Dean considered the teenager’s face, releasing his hair to stroke his fingertips over Frank’s features until they settled on his lips, pressing just inside of his mouth. “Might just paint your pretty face, this time. Bet you’d look good with all that attitude of yours smeared with come.” He finished undoing his pants, then paused, and chuckled. “You’ve got nice hands–take out my cock, baby.”

Seeing the movement of Dean’s jeans bulging out almost sent him into a panic. Oh god, he didn’t honestly assume Frank would want something like that?!

Apparently he did, as he tugged Frank back a bit and undid the belt, letting it hand there through the belt loops. All the while, he spoke as if this was supposed to be a good thing, something the teenager would look forward to, even though Frank felt absolutely sick, especially when Dean slipped the tips of his fingers into his mouth for a moment before pulling them back out.

With slightly trembling fingers, Frank did as he was told, reaching a bit clumsily into the demon’s jeans and tugging out… Holy fucking shit, his eyes widened in horror when he saw how huge the Dean’s cock was. Clearly he had been very well endowed as a human and it carried over almost with pride. There was absolutely no way that thing would fit anywhere!

Jerking back, Frank landed on his ass. “NO! No, I-I don’t wanna do it, p-please don’t make me!”

The violence of his reaction actually startled Dean for a heartbeat, and it took him a second to catch up and grasp the change in pace. Ignoring the state of his undone pants, Dean crouched, bringing his face level with Frank’s and clasping the shaking boy’s face between his palms.

“Hey, hey, hey, shh, calm down,” he murmured, pulling Frank closer until he was cradling the teenager against his chest. “You’re okay, it’s fine, just breathe. Okay? Breathe for me. You don’t need to panic. Frank.” Dean wasn’t sure if he had said the boy’s name out loud since they’d made their deal, and now it echoed with importance as he murmured it.

“Frank, hush. It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you, do you understand me? I’m not going to torture you, or force you. The point is making this something you benefit from, as well. That was the reason I offered the deal, and you took it. Do you remember?” Dean leaned back so Frank could see the sincerity and intensity in his expression. “I want you to want it, too. I’m not going to make you do anything. If I give an order, I want you to enjoy obeying it. That’s what this is. Please, breathe for me, right now.”

He flinched at the touch, bringing his hands up defensively before Dean was cradling him, making him aware by how quick his breathing had become. How easy it was to fly into a panicked state.

“Y-you don’t u-understand,” he choked out. “I-I’ve never g-gone f-further than h-holding hands before! I’ve n-never thought t-too much about sex, I-I never h-had the time! I didn’t e-even care about it, I just–” He drew in a quick breath, struggling to calm down. “P-please, I’m scared…”

How could he explain accurately how he felt about sex in general when he didn’t know? He knew Joe had had sex before, it was rather obvious, but neither of them had talked about it. Frank had never thought it was weird about his lack of interest unless he was alone and rubbing one out. All of his fantasies were incredibly vanilla in nature. He had never sucked anyone off, had never even fingered himself before. This was all too new too fast and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to stay like this, half terrified of another order and Dean finally giving up, not taking no for an answer.

“Okay.” Dean sighed, raising his eyes as he recognized what he must seem like to the shaking human in his arms. “It’s alright to be scared, Frank. I can help you through it. Okay? I’m going to walk you through everything you need to learn.”

Without conscious thought, he raised one hand to stroke it through Frank’s hair, the touch far more gentle now than it had been mere minutes ago. This was almost petting, as if he was calming a skittish animal.

“I shouldn’t have pushed so hard,” Dean finally said, his tone apologetic. “We need to talk about each thing I want from you as it comes up. Especially sex. How’s your breathing?” He leaned back to check, relieved that Frank seemed to have stopped hyperventilating, at least.

He sniffed, feeling rather pathetic, and wiped at his eyes. His heart was still beating kind of fast, but his breathing had managed to slow down enough that he wasn’t in any danger of passing out. When Dean started petting his hair, Frank unconsciously leaned into the touch, craving comfort.

“A dick in the mouth is supposed to be incredibly unhygienic,” he muttered, staring at the floor. “A-and… You’re too big! There’s no way you’re going to fit anywhere!”

Okay well he hadn’t meant to say that out loud…

Dean huffed a laugh, shaking his head as he adjusted his position to be less uncomfortable as he supported Frank. “The human mouth ain’t exactly a field of wild flowers, either, kid. Blowjobs aren’t much of a crime against hygiene.”

At the added outburst, the demon paused, and then he couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “Is that why your eyes went as big as dinner plates? Oh, fuck, now that’s funny.” Dean cupped Frank’s chin, tilting his face up. “Trust me, it’ll work out. You’d be surprised what the jaw and throat can do with training–and when it comes to your ass, I promise, I know what I’m doing.”

He continued petting Frank’s hair lightly, smirking now. “Were those the big concerns? Cleanliness and size? If so, I’m adding them to the ‘learn to trust me’ list. I’ve got you, Frank. Seriously, you’re gonna be fine as long as you relax and let me take care of you.”

“It’s not just that,” he mumbled. He knew he would mess up, having never done this before. Fuck, if he ever watched porn at all he always skipped the blowjob part. It looked so…disgusting and unnecessary. Seriously, who was the first man who discovered getting his dick sucked was a loophole to feeling good? Frank kind of wanted to travel back in time to make sure that man never existed.

“It just sounds gross, okay? I don’t know how else to explain it…”

Raising an amused eyebrow, Dean shook his head in exasperation. “Can’t help feeling I have the upper hand in this argument, sweetheart, as the one of us who actually knows what they’re talking about.”

Then he brightened, a bright grin flashing over his face. “Guess if I can’t convince you, I can just show you.” Dean shifted back, releasing Frank from his arms, and with a small nudge he had Frank pushed back to where he had initially fallen, sitting on his ass on the carpet.

Dean didn’t hesitate now; grabbing Frank’s hands, he moved them back until they were supporting the teenager’s own weight on the floor. “Keep those there unless I say you can move them,” Dean said, his voice just hard enough to be an order.

He slid his own hands down the length of Frank’s bare torso, enjoying the heat of his bare skin, before he yanked down the waistband of the sweatpants, effortlessly tugging them down to Frank’s thighs and effectively binding his legs in the fabric. Dropping onto his knees and leaning over, Dean shot one last, knowing smirk up at Frank, then ducked down and took the human’s soft cock in his own mouth, easily fitting the entire thing in one downward motion.

So what if he had no experience? He could have joined the priesthood if he wasn’t so convinced that if God were real he could get fucked in the ass for letting so many bad things happen!

But then Frank was once again sitting on the ground, his hands briefly pinned to the carpet at Dean’s order. Before he could even ask what the demon was doing, Dean suddenly yanked the sweats down his thighs, keeping his legs together and exposing him, yet again.

That wicked gleam helped the teenager realize what was happening in a split second and before he could get out a protect Dean was swallowing him down, engulfing his cock in a tight wet heat. He yelped, mostly in shock, before clamping his hand over his mouth, his eyes almost perfectly round from being caught off guard.

It had been a long, long fucking time since Dean Winchester had sucked anyone’s dick. It wasn’t that he considered it beneath him; hell, he wouldn’t be nearly as enthusiastic about receiving them if he weren’t willing to reciprocate. That would be hypocritical, and while Dean was many things, he tried never to be that. Demon or no.

But apparently it was like riding a bike, because the instant he had the warm weight of Frank’s cock resting on his tongue, he remembered exactly why he had always fucking loved this when he was human. Even soft, it was enough to fill his mouth, and Dean let out a low, satisfied moan as the salty-sweet non-taste of Frank’s skin, still clean from his bath, just a hint of something musky and soft that had to be Frank’s own unique taste.

Nuzzling in deeper, Dean began swallowing around him, aiming to get Frank to harden up. Once he had some success, then he could invite the teen to be more involved, maybe grab his hair. Getting a blowjob was no fun if you couldn’t fuck their mouth a little, after all.

Okay, so as it turned out, a lot of things could be “too much”; getting two handjobs in one day and now a blowjob, Frank felt like he was falling apart. His cock was getting hard as he felt the throat muscles constricting and swallowing around him, his hand still tightly clamped over his mouth to stifle any noises that tried to escape, his other hand practically tearing a hole into the carpet, it was clenched so tightly into the fabric.

He knew what Dean was doing, giving him a blowjob in hopes of getting one back. He said it felt good, but to Frank it felt like something weird and wet and hot, and yes he was hard but the nerve endings in a penis were incredibly sensitive and likely to respond to any stimulation, even a mouth, and the teen was still scared, scared of what might happen if he gave in. Would Dean want to go further than a blowjob? What was really stopping the demon from forcing himself all the way?

Suddenly there was an extra hard suck, causing his body to jerk, his legs attempting to fold up under Dean’s body. His cock throbbed in reaction, and a muffled whine sounded before he could stop it.

There was so much resistance in the body beneath his, Dean might have almost been concerned that Frank  _ wasn’t _ enjoying this, if not for the fact that he was, indeed, getting hard in Dean’s mouth.

He slipped off with a soft, dirty pop, raising his head to study Frank’s posture. “Hand off your mouth–I said to keep it on the floor,” the demon commanded softly. “I want to hear the sounds you make, so stop fucking hiding them from me.”

He was about to lower his mouth again when something occurred to him, a puzzle piece clicking into its designated spot, and Dean blinked, then looked up again. “This isn’t quid pro quo, kid. I’m just proving my point. Hell, you can pass out and go back to sleep after this, if you want to. I’m just making you feel good, like I said I would.”

Dean slid one hand slowly up Frank’s thigh, his nails dragging just slightly, fingers framing the hardening dick in front of his face as he kitten-licked the head, just a darting motion of his tongue. “Relax and take it. Don’t try to anticipate future events. Focus on this instant,” he purred, then dropped his mouth back over the teen’s cock.

Even with the sucking and the licking, Frank truly could not seem to get into it. His anxiety was making it worse, as always, and he suddenly wished that he had never taken this deal. And that just added a fresh wave of guilt through him, already causing his erection to wilt a little further now that it was out of Dean’s mouth.

Apparently blowjobs weren’t they were all cracked up to be.

Frank struggled not to hyperventilate again. He just wanted this to be over with. “I-It doesn’t feel good!” he burst out in frustration. “It feels weird! I don’t like it, okay? I don’t like it!”

Dean slowly raised his head, reevaluating his options. He was starting to think that he might have been projecting a little too much of his own confidence, self-certainty, and sexual energy onto Frank, and it was time to re-allign their goals.

“Okay,” he murmured, sitting back up, and he gently worked the sweats back up Frank’s legs, covering him again. “Here’s what we’re going to do, sweetheart.” Dean slid to his feet, grabbing the shirt, and crouched to hold it out as he spoke.

“I’m gonna take you to the bedroom, and we’re going to get under the sheets. I’m going to turn on the TV I have in there, and you find something that seems soothing to you. We’re going to rest, and calm you down. You’ve done nothing wrong–do you understand me?”

“…Nothing wrong?” He sat up a bit shakily, once again surprised by the sudden change. If this kept happening he probably was going to end up with mental whiplash.

It was like two different sides of his head were at war, with one screaming that this was wrong, he had to escape, had to find a way out of the deal and back to Joe. But the other part was wailing because he failed again, he failed something that was simple, Dean had wanted to get sucked off and Frank’s cowardice got in the way, again, obviously leaving the demon hanging. He didn’t even know where that part came from…

Blinking hard, he pulled his knees to his chest, gripping the shirt tightly. “I told you I’m not any good at this,” he whimpered.

“Not good at what?” Dean asked curiously, nudging Frank’s knees aside in order to grasp his hands and haul him onto his feet. “Sex? No one is, at first. It’s all about the learning. Having someone experienced to teach you is usually a perk, but I’m not blaming you for still hating me.”

Keeping his hold on the teenager’s hand, Dean headed into the bedroom, tugging the blanket back and guiding Frank onto the mattress. “And no, nothing’s wrong. I’ve been kind of thinking that ‘hard and fast’ would help you shake your whole need for control sooner, but that wasn’t really fair to you.”

Dean moved around to the other side of the bed, climbing under the blanket and grabbing the remote to turn on the television on the opposite wall, before he turned to tug Frank’s arm, pulling him closer to the demon’s body. “Got a favorite show?”

Frank was quiet, staring at the floor as Dean pulled him into the bedroom. It felt like his ears were ringing, the flight or fight response such a strong instinct that he kind of wanted to punch the demon in the face. It was a constant game of hot or cold with the bastard, and the teenager knew that any more of this would end with him willingly walking into one of those torture cells. At least there he knew where he stood, knew that the demons in charge of such places would just torture him instead of extending any kind of kindness in between.

He was back in bed before he knew it, Dean pulling him closer even though Frank knew he didn’t want to be touched, but he didn’t dare try to protest again. He didn’t know how much he could get away with.

At the demon’s question about any favorite shows, Frank just shook his head. He just wanted to sleep forever, wanted to be trapped in a dream where everything was okay.

Frank was so rigid, it might have alarmed Dean if he had possessed functioning human emotions. As it was, he settled for turning the television on, leaving it on something lighthearted and quiet and turning the volume down.

Then he set the remote down, rolling onto his back and folding his hands beneath his head. He sighed into the darkness, closing his eyes in frustration and remaining still.

“Sleep,” Dean said softly, his voice barely a disturbance on the air between them. “I won’t make you get up again unless you want to. Or need to–staying in bed forever won’t be good for you.”

Frank immediately turned over so that his back was facing the demon, curling up on himself as he pulled the blankets tightly around his shoulders, as if hoping that would be enough for him to be protected from any more hands on him.

He didn’t understand why he was pushing back so much. He had done this damn deal, hadn’t he? Sex was part of it, pretty much the entire part of it. The sooner he got fucked the sooner he could learn to cope, to block everything out until maybe he became a brainless, useless drone.

The night passed in between moments of fitful sleep. When Frank could no longer force himself to sleep, he stayed awake, thinking. What if Dean was being honest? What if he truly did just want to help Frank give up control and be comfortable? Frank did owe him. He was nothing but a pet, anyway, he really had no choice in this situation.

Cautiously he turned back over. Dean was still laying there, his eyes closed as if he were really sleeping. Did demons even sleep? Whatever…

Slowly, Frank moved a bit closer until he was once again pressed against Dean’s side. It wasn’t like he was all over him, but they were making contact. This was as close to surrender as he could do for the time being.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We can be found on tumblr at @minxchester and @hunting-hardy-brothers.


	5. Chapter 5

Dean didn’t pay attention to the time, letting it pass without concern and eventually switching channels, smirking when he realized it was an old Dr. Sexy re-run. He set the remote aside, glancing sideways idly as Frank twitched and shifted in his sleep, making small sounds of distress.

Could be nightmares, or could just be general unrest. Dean’s mouth tightened, but he didn’t move, because by now it seemed that his touch was far more terrorizing than comforting. He really did hope that Frank would grow out of that. It was inconvenient not to be able to address the issue hands-on, in Dean’s normal style.

He could see the living room gradually lightening through the open door, the false window giving the illusion of dawn as the night passed. Dean sighed, turning the television down to nearly-mute and stretching out. He closed his eyes, letting his body rest, and his mind drift off into the dark–the closest thing to sleep he could bother with.

Frank’s occasional movements didn’t distract him again, but what definitely caught Dean’s notice was the sudden heat of the younger man’s body slotting into place beside his own. No hands, like he was afraid to really touch Dean; but there was nothing at all accidental about the way he aligned himself along Dean’s side, as if seeking the comfort of another body’s warmth.

Dean cracked one eye, glancing down to see that Frank appeared to be concentrating intently, as if he was making a conscious effort to do this. Surprised and curious, Dean closed his eye again, then exhaled quietly. “You alright?”

Was he alright? Frank didn’t know. He was confused and scared and severely homesick, worrying about Joe, as to whether or not he was safe with Nancy. He was stuck in Hell, his skin still crawling a little from the touching earlier.

“I’m not sure,” he admitted quietly. “Everything is just so…overwhelming.”

“Mmm.” Dean remained still, as if the slightest movement would speak the teenager away from him. It was oddly pleasant, the weight and solidity of a second body pressed up against his own. Dean would never have thought that he might miss that, but now that it was here, he wasn’t complaining.

“Is there anything I can say to make it better?” he asked finally, opening his eyes and tilting his head just enough to see Frank’s face, but not enough to actually bring them eye-to-eye. He didn’t feels like seeing Frank withdraw from the proximity of their mouths.

The demon frowned slightly. “Would it help you to call your brother?”

“No… He’ll know something’s wrong.” And truthfully Frank felt if he heard Joe’s voice he might try to escape, to try and be with his brother again. Being separated for so long didn’t do well for either off them, but the faster Frank managed to break them both of the issue, then the sooner he could try to visit without wanting to jump off a bridge.

“I just… I don’t know what I want,” he said uncertainly. “A lot of normal people my age would probably jump at the idea of having sex with someone obviously experienced, especially if they’re virgins. But I used to rarely think about it, if at all. Now suddenly I have to think about it, it’s part of the deal we made, and I… I’m scared if I’m not able to hold up my end of the bargain that you might…” He choked a little.

Dean’s eyebrows rose, and he cocked his head to actually look down at Frank properly. “Might…what, cancel your deal? Give you to another demon? Kill you?” Shaking his head, Dean dragged himself up until he was sitting back against the headboard, not dislodging Frank from his side as he moved.

“Doesn’t work like that. We made the deal and sealed it with a kiss. Only way it breaks is if you don’t get what you bargained for–in this case, your brother’s safety, so I’d have to fuck up and let him get hurt to lose it–or Crowley rewrites it, which would almost guarantee forfeiting it and not getting your soul when you die, so he’s not going to.”

He shrugged. “If it’s either of the others, they also won’t happen. I told you I’m a possessive bastard–was even when I was human. There’s nothing I want badly enough that anyone could offer it and convince me to sell our deal. And I wouldn’t kill you.” Dean meant to say more about that, but he stopped, unsure of why he even felt so certain of that.

Frank was a little jostled when Dean moved to sit up against the headboard, still laying against the demon like he was a body pillow. He had to admit he felt slightly reassured by Dean promising him that he wouldn’t be handed off or killed.

“B-but I can’t seem to hold up my end,” he said, hating how timid he sounded. “I promised in the deal, I’d do whatever you wanted, sex included and I panicked over a blowjob!”

Dean smirked slightly, dropping his hand to card his fingers distractedly through Frank’s hair once more. “You may not remember, since it was all very emotional for you, but the phrasing when I proposed option three was ‘I get all of you.’ Yes, that includes your body–sex–but it’s not only that. ‘You’ are a body, a mind, a soul, a personality…a lot of factors.”

He shrugged. “I should have been more explicit. Point is, you being unsure about sex does not negate the deal. Hell, your virginity and your emotions on the subject  _ are _ part of you, so they’re par the course.”

Looking down, Dean raised one hand and stroked his fingertips along Frank’s jaw, drawing his face up to look at Dean. “It is okay, you know. I mean, I want you, don’t get me wrong. But I’m willing to work on the training part. I’m never going to just dismiss what you need and take what I want.”

The touch to his hair made him think of the few other times someone had done that before, when he was in need of some comfort but did not want to be trapped in a hug that he didn’t want. His mother, for one, would do it often, especially when he was unable to sleep. His first girlfriend Callie used to do it too. She teased him often that her stroking his hair would slow his brain down when he had been thinking about something too hard.

“When your mind is racing I can practically feel the heat coming from your forehead,” she had said once, her eyes flashing with laughter. “Then as soon as I start petting your hair it cools back down. Don’t want you overheating that big brain of yours.”

Dean’s fingers brushing against his jaw pulled Frank out of his thoughts, allowing his face to be tilted so he and the demon could lock eyes, as Dean seemed to think it important enough. When Dean promised not to force him into anything, Frank fell limp with relief, reaching up to shyly touch the hand to his jaw. “T-thank you,” he whispered. “I-I’ll try to work on the training, I promise.”

The touch of Frank’s fingers against his skin sent heat skittering across Dean’s hand and up his arm, and his breath caught faintly. For a moment he couldn’t move, except to offer the teenager a faint smile. “It’s fine,” the demon murmured. “We’re fine.”

The potential inherent in Frank’s pledge to try harder hung heavy in the air between them for several heartbeats, and then Dean found his voice again. “If we tried again right now, would you rather touch, or be touched?” he asked, because after his previous attempt, Dean didn’t think he’d mind at all being the one going down. As long as Frank agreed to it.

He hesitated for a moment, weighing the options in his mind. Trying to force himself to touch back seemed like a daunting task, and after last night he wasn’t sure if he could really risk trying to do something only to panic and back out again at the very last second.

Nervously wetting his lips, he replied, “B-be touched… I… I learn better if I…know what to expect…”

A smirk curled Dean’s lips, and he nodded slowly. “Sounds reasonable. I can definitely show you what to expect from getting your dick sucked,” he murmured, moving to shifting Frank onto his back and leaning over him.

“We’ll go slow,” he added, shooting Frank a smile before he dipped down to drag his mouth down the teenager’s throat, dropping kisses that had just a faint edge of bite down until he reached his collarbone.

Dean tugged the shirt collar down, baring Frank’s clavicle and giving it a light nip, too. “Shirt,” he breathed out, his hands sliding down to find the human’s waist, and slipping beneath the fabric. “Off.”

The kisses were a surprise, Dean’s mouth trailing down his neck and causing him to shiver a little, though in fear or anticipation he wasn’t quite sure. Probably it was just an automatic reaction to the lips pressing against his skin, the teeth nipping ever so lightly, not enough to hurt but enough to keep his attention.

When Dean gently ordered his shirt be taken off, Frank bit his lip but did as he was told, once more taking off the shirt and putting it onto the other side of the bed. Not quite sure what to do with his hands afterwards, Frank gripped the pillow beneath his head, fingers clenching against the soft pillowcase.

“Could… C-could you talk to me?” he requested hesitantly. “I-I’d feel better if y-you talked me through this too… People talking helps curb the panic attacks…”

“Yeah,” Dean breathed out, his lips tracing invisible patterns in Enochian over the teenager’s chest as he worked his way down. “I can talk to you. You want me to tell you what I’m going to do to you?”

His fingers followed his lips, trailing around the muscular curve of Frank’s pecs, down over his abdomen and then dancing along the waistband of the sweatpants. “Cause I could do that,” the demon continued, his voice a gravelly purr. “Could tell you about how I want to pull these down.” As he spoke, Dean acted on his words, hooking his fingers into the pants and sliding them down Frank’s hips, slow and gentle.

“How I want to kiss my way across your waist, and hips, and thighs,” he went on, demonstrating by dipping his tongue along the line and indent of Frank’s hipbones. “And then I wanna do just a little teasing–because that’s how I am,” Dean said, smirking as he pressed a kiss mere inches away from the teen’s cock, not near enough to touch it, but close enough that Frank would feel the heat of his breath against the shaft. “Cause I want you to ask me for it.”

The touch and the sound of Dean’s voice was beginning to have an effect on Frank. He gnawed on his bottom lip, watching a bit cautiously as the demon moved downward, kissing and touching as he spoke. As he grabbed onto the edges of the pants and tugged them off, the teenager could feel his cock reacting, hardening slowly as Dean pressed a kiss to his hips and then to the spot right next to it.

He exhaled at Dean’s request. Did he not remember what happened last night? Asking for…for that, that weird wet feeling of a mouth on him, sucking him like that?

He couldn’t help but break eye contact, pulling his eyes away as he stared at the ceiling, clenching the pillow in his fingers as he struggled to keep himself still and calm. Dean was being careful about this, the least Frank could do was go along with it. “P-please…?”

Some of the heat in Dean’s face softened, a mellower kind of lust filling his green eyes as he watched Frank struggling to be calm. His cock was responding, but he was still way too deep inside of his own head.

“Good boy,” Dean praised him in a raspy whisper, turning to drag his tongue in a long, hot stroke up the lengthening shape of Frank’s election. “Does it feel good when I touch your dick, sweetheart?” He closed one hand around the shaft, using his own saliva to stroke it gently.

God, Frank was sure he was going to turn completely red, all over. Well, something was turning red at least…

Sure, Dean’s hand felt good, and okay, maybe him licking it wasn’t so weird right now since he wasn’t panicking yet, but it almost felt like his cock got even harder as the demon coaxed Frank into responding, no matter how embarrassing that was. 

“Y-yes,” he stammered, his hips jerking a little.

“Good,” Dean growled again, tightening his hand and stroking Frank’s cock a little harder and faster, his fingers twisting at the head for added stimulation. “Talking goes both ways, baby boy, you gotta show me what feels good–what parts you want more of.”

He leaned down, taking the head into his mouth and sinking down, slowly, before he started to suck lightly around his mouthful. Then Dean eased back up, continuing to stroke the spit-wet shaft and dragging his tongue through the slit.

“Like that, sweetheart, did you like that? You prefer me sucking, or licking, or stroking? Wanna hear you say what you want me to do, baby, you gotta help me out here,” the demon purred, his emerald eyes flickering with sparks of black as he watched Frank succumbing to the pleasure.

Frank whimpered, struggling to keep still as he felt that mouth wrap around his cock again, gently sucking, the tongue sliding against the skin. For some reason that kind of felt good this time…

“T-the… the stroking f-feels good,” he admitted, turning his face away in order to try and stave off the embarrassment. 

A feral grin filled Dean’s face, and he nodded, keeping his hand moving up and down the teenager’s cock and letting his other hand ease upward, stroking Frank’s waist and stomach gently, soothing his twitching body.

“Good boy, being honest for me,” he murmured, turning his face to drag his tongue along the inside of Frank’s thigh. His taste was stronger there, salty sweet flavor of his skin enhanced by the sweat beading across it, and Dean growled his pleasure.

“It’s not as intense as it seems,” the demon added, his gaze locking on Frank’s as he licked and sucked tiny marks into the human’s legs. “Gotta learn to read your partner’s responses, see what makes them feel good.”

He shifted up again, his mouth roaming from Frank’s cock over his hips and belly, biting more hickeys along the way. If he had his way, Dean would keep the boy shirtless from now on, so everyone in Hell would see his marks of ownership.

The mouth moving over his skin was making his head feel fuzzy. Gasping a little at the tongue on his thigh, Frank jerked a little in reaction.

“S-shit,” he hissed, closing his eyes as Dean moved to start sucking marks on his hips, slowly moving his stomach. “Oh g-god, Dean, I–”

It was like some kind of instinct was overtaking him, pleasure spreading through his entire body, making it harder to think, which, for once, was actually kind of a good thing. For the first time Frank could understand why sex could possibly be a good thing.”

Hearing his own name on Frank’s lips–especially in that breathless, heated tone, arousal obviously starting to finally burn through the teen–Dean groaned, low in his throat, and bit down a little harder, leaving a nice and clear indentation from his teeth, right on Frank’s ribcage.

“Good, huh?” he purred, tongue and teeth probing along the lines of Frank’s torso. Curious, he reached one hand up, his fingertips sliding inquiringly around one nipple. “What about here?” Dean mused, flicking his index finger against the fresh. “Think they might be sensitive, too?”

Testing, gently for now in case it was an off-switch, Dean caught the bud between thumb and forefinger, pinching down just slightly.

The bite caught him a little off guard, his legs folding in as he gasped, feeling how Dean’s teeth dug in, not hard enough to cause any pain, but hard enough to leave a clear mark. He felt a bit relieved when he let go, moving elsewhere, almost hunting out for a clean spot he hadn’t caught yet.

Feeling the demon’s fingers caressing his chest, Frank jumped a little when Dean suddenly flicked his nipple before grabbing at it, pinching it a little, enough for him to feel it happening. He felt his cock throb again, a pretty clear indicator as he let out a startled moan. 

“T-that…that f-feels,” he stammered, not really sure if it really felt good or not. Maybe his brain was mixing things up?

“Feels…good?” Dean asked teasingly. He slid further up the teen’s body, closing his lips over Frank’s nipple and sucking roughly, his tongue laving over it immediately after to soften the sting.

Dean moved his other hand back down, closing it around Frank’s cock and resuming stroking with quick, tight tugs. “We need to find your erogenous zones,” he muttered, chuckling under his breath as he licked his way across to Frank’s other nipple, nipping lightly before giving it a suck, as well. “Bet you’d look so pretty with clamps hanging from your chest.”

Okay, it was very clear now that Frank had incredibly sensitive nipples, jolts of pleasure rushing through him as Dean sucked on them. Weirdly enough he had never thought of his nipples as something that could be stimulated during sex. They were just kind of…there, he thought they had no real use.

“C-clamps?” he repeated a bit shakily. “T-that sounds painful…”

Dean smirked, giving his chest some more thorough attention as he felt Frank’s cock jerking slightly against the demon’s belly. Seems he had found a good spot to tease.

“Not strictly,” he replied, balancing his focus between stroking the teen’s dick, and pinching the nipple that he wasn’t toying with between his teeth. “Not if I don’t make ‘em too tight. Just a little…sensation. Sort of like what I’m doing now,” Dean added, with another, mildly harder pinch.

Twisting his fingers around the head of Frank’s cock before sliding back down, Dean huffed a laugh. “Doesn’t seem like the rest of you is as worried as your head is, sweetheart. If it feels good, just let it carry you.”

Dean smirked, giving his chest some more thorough attention as he felt Frank’s cock jerking slightly against the demon’s belly. Seems he had found a good spot to tease.

“Not strictly,” he replied, balancing his focus between stroking the teen’s dick, and pinching the nipple that he wasn’t toying with between his teeth. “Not if I don’t make ‘em too tight. Just a little…sensation. Sort of like what I’m doing now,” Dean added, with another, mildly harder pinch.

Twisting his fingers around the head of Frank’s cock before sliding back down, Dean huffed a laugh. “Doesn’t seem like the rest of you is as worried as your head is, sweetheart. If it feels good, just let it carry you.”

“Yeah,” Dean laughed, delighted by how responsive the teen was to having his nipples played with. “Stop trying to categorize it in your head, or be in control of your reactions. Let the pleasure talk. Moan, writhe, beg for more of anything that you really like.”

Another hard pinch, and Dean purred his approval at the way Frank’s nipples were reddening under his fingers, becoming sensitive and blood-flushed. “Gonna clamp these,” the demon decided, his voice dropping to a low growl. “Could put you on your knees in front of a mirror…pretty silver clamps hanging from these tight little buds, maybe lick you open for me to fuck your gorgeous ass–you could watch it happen, see how fuckin’ hot you look when you’re turned on.”

His gaze flashed up to Frank’s face, eyebrows rising challengingly. “And you have to admit, you’re getting pretty into it,” he added, tugging pointedly at the human’s erection bobbing between their bodies.

The way Dean spoke about putting nipple clamps on him, putting him in front of a mirror to watch the demon fuck him, it really should have freaked him out. But, somehow, it had the opposite effect. Dean was really into the spontaneous fantasy, and Frank could feel his cock drooling as the mental image flashed through his mind. 

Another small moan was choked out and Frank felt like his entire body was going to turn red. “I-I’m c-close,” he admitted, his breathing hitched.

Dean hadn’t been expecting that–he’d thought it was going to take a lot more work and dirty talk to convince the kid to get into this enough to get anywhere near an orgasm. Delighted, he felt a savage grin split his face, and he nodded encouragingly, tightening his hand on the teen’s cock–and then digging his teeth into Frank’s chest, just above the nipple, wanting to leave the most prominent mark right there in plain sight for all of Hell to see.

“Good boy,” the demon growled, raw pleasure lacing his voice. “Knew you could do, knew you’d see just how nice it is to let go and let someone take care of you. Do you want to come in my hand, baby boy? Or would you like to feel my mouth again?”

The hand tightening on his cock and the hard bite to his chest caused him to cry out, in a sort of mix of pleasure and pain, something he hadn’t experienced before and yet that just made the pressure in his gut get worse, threatening to explode at any moment.

When Dean gave him his options, Frank reacted without even thinking about it. “Y-your mouth!” he blurted out, his hands grabbing onto the demon’s shoulders as he struggled to ground himself just a little. “P-please, f-fuck, I–” He gritted his teeth in an effort to stave off the sudden rising of his oncoming orgasm.

Snarling his approval at the desperation in the teenager’s voice, Dean let Frank’s grip push him downward, sinking back between his thighs and swallowing the whole length of his cock down in one go. The demon had long ago overcome his gag reflex, and he made use of that now, letting the head breach his throat and groaning around it for added stimulation.

Liking the fact that Frank seemed to appreciate the hint of an edge of pain with his pleasure, Dean let his hands drag from Frank’s chest down to his hips, nails digging in just enough to sting as he gave his attention to the blowjob.

A particularly hard press of his fingers against the curve of Frank’s hipbones served as Dean’s permission, using Frank to give in and ride it out, to come in his mouth.

Frank cried out as Dean swallowed his cock down. He could feel it, oh shit, he could feel the demon’s throat swallowing around the head, endlessly drooling pre-cum as a reaction, and he panted, fingers tightening on Dean’s shoulders a split second before he yelped, cumming hard. His hips jerked as he came, driving himself further down Dean’s throat, as he let out a series of choked whimpers, riding out the pleasure until it finally came to a slow end, leaving him breathless and limp on the bed.

Dean just purred and moaned, thrilled by the way Frank seemed to abandon his control and give into the rush of his climax, writhing and gasping through the orgasm. Hot pulses of come hit the back of Dean’s throat, and the demon swallowed them down eagerly, letting the muscle tighten and flex repeatedly around the teen’s twitching cock.

When he felt Frank slump back into the bed, utterly spent, Dean finally slid off of his dick with a satisfied little hum. “Fucking gorgeous,” he murmured in affirmation, pulling himself up to lay soft kisses across Frank’s chest and throat. “You feel good, sweetheart?”

Frank was practically half asleep already as Dean finally let his cock out of his mouth, looking very much like a satisfied cat who had gotten its fill of a favorite treat. Before he could say or do anything, the demon crawled up and started kissing his bare skin, asking if he felt good.

“Yeah,” he said, still a bit breathless. He kind of wanted to catch another nap but he knew that too much sleep would be bad for him.

Raising an eyebrow at the blissed-out look in Frank’s eyes, Dean chuckled softly. “Not falling asleep on me again, are you? You’ve gotten plenty of rest, baby boy. ‘M gonna have to keep you awake, I think.”

He sat up on his knees, regarding Frank curiously. “So. Are blowjobs are terrifying as you seemed to think they were?” Dean asked idly, his fingers still stroking aimlessly down the teen’s torso and hips, enjoying the warmth of his skin.

He blushed a little, blinking up at the demon gently touching him. “It… It still feels weird getting it…y'know. Y-you have to remember, I’ve never done anything like that before… Never went that far with anyone.” Though a few of his old romantic interests had definitely offered. One time Callie had almost gotten her hands in his jeans when he had dozed off watching a movie with her and they had gotten into an argument when he had panicked at feeling someone touching him. Now that he was thinking it, his unwillingness to have sex was probably one of the bigger reasons as to why they had broken up.

“I know. It’s okay, there’s not really a rush,” Dean replied, chuckling as he reached up to playfully ruffle the teenager’s hair. His touch softened into more of a caress, fingers stroking lightly through the dark strands. “We really should get up, though, there’s no point staying in bed forever,” the demon added, pulling his back and then rolling off of the bed.

He headed toward the door, then paused, glancing back towards his dresser. Looking back at Frank sprawled over the bed, Dean gnawed on his lip, thinking. “How would you react to the idea of wearing a collar?” he asked thoughtfully. “At least in public, if not in here as well.”

Frank stretched a little after Dean got out of bed, hearing the slight pops and feeling the strain on his muscles as he managed to bring in some more awareness into his body. The fog over his brain from the orgasm was beginning to fade, and waking up faster would help get rid of it quicker. He wasn’t sure what was in store today and he needed to know he’d be able to handle it, or at least try to force himself through if it became unpleasant.

At Dean’s question, he paused, glancing at him in slight confusion. “A..collar? Like, a real collar?” he asked.

Dean smirked slightly, going to the drawer in the corner and opening it to dig out a leather band, two inches wide and dark green in collar–close to the shade of his human eyes–with silver hardware.

“A real collar,” he confirmed, holding it up as he turned back toward the bed. “Symbol of whose you are, down here. Leaving marks all over your chest is good–shows anyone who’s asking that I’m definitely enjoying you. But this–” He waved the collar, running his fingers over the leather almost lovingly. “–this is more of a ‘touch and die’ kind of symbol. No one would interfere with you.”

Frank was silent as he listened to Dean speak. While wearing a collar that so obviously screamed that he belonged to the demon sounded rather frightening, he knew that it would be one of the best bets of protection he had. Dean couldn’t be attached to him at all times, he would probably want to give Frank some of his independence back.

After a moment of hesitation, he slowly sat up in the bed, eyeing the collar warily. “…If you think it’s a good idea, I’ll wear it,” he said quietly.

Dean paused, tilting his head to study the teenager intently, trying to discern his motivations from his facial expressions. Finally he nodded, licking his lips as he stepped closer to the bed.

“Smart choice,” the demon said softly, opening the collar up and carefully slipping it around Frank’s throat. He closed the buckle, checking with two fingers beneath the band to make sure it was loose enough for Frank to breathe.

When he leaned back to take in the complete picture, Dean exhaled harshly, suddenly very aware of his own erection pressing persistently against the scratchy denim of his jeans. “Well,” he murmured, his voice roughening a degree. “That…looks a whole lot hotter than I was expecting it to.” He swallowed, chuckling as he cupped Frank’s jaw in wordless praise, thumb stroking up over his lip. “Good boy.”

Frank felt the weight of the collar as soon as it was snapped on. It was a bit heavier than he expected it to, but thankfully it didn’t chafe or hurt his throat, and Dean didn’t put it on too tight. But when the demon stepped back and obviously got aroused by how he looked, Frank blushed again, feeling an odd thrill when Dean cupped his chin, praising him as a “good boy”.

That was…kind of weird. He was used to praise, doing his detective work his mother praised him all the time, as well as for school. Many people told him he was smart or kind or brave for doing the things he used to do. Ever since going on the road with Joe, his brother would always tell him that he was the best.

Yet somehow, the words “good boy” felt…incredibly intimate, and it strangely warmed him from the inside, letting him momentarily forget how naked he was except for the collar.

Dean saw it, clearly, saw the way that Frank’s pupils dilated ever so slightly, a flicker of uncertainty in his expression warring with the indicator of arousal as he adjusted to the sensation of the collar. He clearly liked it, overall, but wasn’t sure if he liked that he liked it, and Dean had to smile smugly.

“It’s a good thing to enjoy this,” Dean murmured, leaning down to bring his eyes level with Frank’s. “It will be easier for you, that way.” Leaning in, the demon brushed his lips, just barely, against Frank’s, still smiling.

His fingers trailed down further, one tracing along the edge of the collar and enjoying the heat of Frank’s flushed skin beneath the leather, which was warming from the proximity to a human body. “How did you feel about surrendering control, before?” Dean asked softly, cocking his head. “Was it as hard as you imagined, or was there some relief?”

He blushed a little more when Dean kissed him softly, as if they were truly lovers, and the feeling of his fingers brushing against his neck at the edge of the collar was kind of…nice. Almost comforting.

At the demon’s question, Frank had to think before he forced himself to answer honestly. “…Relief… I don’t know why, but… No one really has control over orgasms, m-maybe that was just a normal thing…?” He looked up uncertainly. While he wasn’t actively looking for a loophole to escape the relief he felt, he still needed…reassurance. Relief from orgasming was a given, especially when you gave and built the pressure beforehand. But for those few moments before he had to cum, he had suddenly abandoned all control and it felt…good. But it had been too brief for him to be sure.

Nodding slowly, Dean climbed back up to kneel at the end of the bed, hooking his fingers beneath the edge of the collar to keep Frank close. “True, they’re kind of flexible. You won’t always get off, even if you’re enjoying the foreplay. But it is my goal that you always get something good out of our physical interaction.”

His phone beeped on the bedside table, and Dean sighed, moving his fingers to rub them teasingly over the swell of Frank’s bottom lip. “I could spend all day exploring you, and showing you just how good it will be to surrender to me,” the demon murmured, his eyes flickering black, and the back to their normal shade again. “But alas, reality calls.”

Getting back to his feet, Dean grabbed a flannel and pulled it on over his t-shirt. “I have to show my face in the throne room, however briefly. I’d prefer you come with me, since you’re currently very freshly decorated with signs of my possession, and that would benefit us both. Can you handle that?”

It was becoming hypnotizing, the way Dean moved with such grace and ease, those eyes boring into Frank’s, keeping him rooted on the spot. The phone ringing startled the teen slightly but the touch to his lip kept him from jumping. As Dean got off the bed with obvious reluctance and mentioned returning to the throne room, Frank felt his shields coming back up. The last thing he wanted was to return to that place, where he was sure to be the center of attention after that spat with the other demon – Tyson? – occurred. 

But Dean made a good point. If the other demons saw the collar and the obvious marks not decorating his torso and neck, there was a good chance the demons would understand that he wasn’t to be touched. He took in a small breath. “Okay… Can I wear pants though? I-I don’t really want to wander around naked.”

Dean chuckled, coming back over to pet the teenager’s hair with one hand, his fingers catching in a light grip on the dark brown strands. “Yes, I’ll allow pants today,” the demon said with a teasing smile. “It’s tempting to push your boundaries all-out, but we have time. Someday you won’t even notice your nudity.”

He pursed his lips, stroking along the collar where it rested snug on Frank’s throat. “There’s a leash for this, too. When I use it, it will be so that no one can try to separate you from me, not for humiliation purposes. At least for now.”

Picking the sweatpants up from where he had tossed them before, Dean held them out to Frank. “Let’s go, baby boy. Stay close to me, and keep your eyes down and mouth shut unless I directly tell you to look up or speak. People will try to touch you or make you answer to them, but you don’t owe them shit, alright? You’re mine, and only have to obey me.”

Not even notice his own nudity? Somehow he doubted that. Until very recently Frank had been the definition of a prude. After the scars had begun appearing on his torso he didn’t even go shirtless to a pool. But he gave a small nod when Dean told him about the leash, not really minding that. Anything that offered protection was fine by him.

Taking the pants back, he got out of bed and hurried to slip them on, feeling kind of relieved that he didn’t have to waste time washing up, though he knew the stench of sexual activities was clinging to him. He looked down at himself, seeing the new possessive marks and the sweatpants and realized he was barefoot. Did he even remember what had happened to his shoes? Probably still in the bathroom. He didn’t know if he could wear them but decided not to ask. Being in a pair of sweatpants was a luxury today, Dean made that clear, and he was going to take advantage of it.

Frank went to stand by the door, waiting as Dean got ready, eyeing the chain that was hanging near the desk, no doubt realizing that was the “leash”.

Once he was dressed and had put himself into the right mindset to deal with Crowley’s inanities today, Dean went to his desk. The chain could ether be held, or linked to a cuff that went around his own wrist, and Dean chose the second option–less chance of someone yanking Frank away from him, that way.

Cuffed and attached, he turned and hooked the chain into the O-ring on Frank’s collar, smiling smugly. “Looks damn good on you,” he murmured, giving it a light tug just to see the collar strain around his boy’s throat. “I like seeing you collared and claimed. All mine.”

He opened the front door, leading Frank out and closing it firmly behind. “Well, once more into the fire,” the demon muttered, heading back toward the throne room upstairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We can be found on Tumblr at @minchester and @hunting-hardy-brothers.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, sorry for updating morning after it's due!

When they arrived, his shoulders were straight and stiff, eyes black, face devoid of any emotion as he approached the throne at the head of the room where Crowley was reclined.

Once Dean was dressed and had clipped the chain to his collar, Frank blushed at the compliment and allowed the demon to lead him out of the apartment. As soon as they headed back to the throne room, the teenager bowed his head, keeping his eyes training to the floor like Dean had warned him, holding his hands behind his back.

Once again entering the throne room, it was full of demons, many of them holding paperwork. Who knew that creatures of Hell could look like business people, in their freshly pressed suits and straight backed demeanors? He could sense a few of them turning their heads as he and Dean entered, no doubt locking onto the human with clear interest. Frank wanted to hide but he knew better than to do that. Showing anything similar to weakness could probably get him torn apart. He stayed glued to Dean’s side, avoiding eye contact with everyone, trying to remain calm.

A cool sneer settled on Dean’s lips as he strolled through the room, knowing that almost every demon in the room was side-eyeing him as he crossed the room with Frank in tow. For one, Dean didn’t adhere to even a small portion of the whole office-esque dress code of Hell’s court, sticking to his familiar jeans, flannels, rock tees, and logging boots–and for another, Frank’s soul was essentially a neon sign, drawing attention and raising eyebrows for those who hadn’t seen him during their brief previous stop here.

He could see Crowley’s slight eye roll as they approached the throne, but the King said nothing about Frank’s presence; Dean saw the swift glance he tossed over the boy, and the way Crowley noted the bite marks, collar, and downcast eyes. Frank was behaving perfectly, practically emanating “property of Dean Winchester,” and that was all the King cared about.

Dean found his usual place, below the throne and just to the right, and paused, tilting his head and giving the King a solid stare that indicated his disinterest in remaining long. Crowley sighed, sitting up and turning to face him.

“And how are things getting on with your pet?”

Chuckling, Dean shrugged, letting cold indifferent ripple through his voice. “Perfectly. He’s a good bitch, as I promised he would be.” His eyes found Brady across the room, who was glaring at him with undisguised hatred. “I’d say you can ask him yourself, but he knows better than to answer.”

The King nodded, satisfied. “Good. We have some business to discuss, you and I, so you have to stay put for a bit. Just keep him at your feet, I don’t care.”

Dean nodded back, drawing on the chain to pull Frank closer to himself. “Kneel at my feet,” he instructed quietly, not quite turning his head fully toward the teenager.

Frank knew not to be hurt by the sudden indifference in Dean’s tone, how easily he threw out the word “bitch” and spoke as if Frank wasn’t really present. It was just another angle of protection. While Dean could pretend not to care much, he also seemed to tighten his grip on the chain when he obviously caught someone staring at them. The demon was still incredibly possessive.

When Dean stepped to the side and gave the quiet order, Frank didn’t hesitate, immediately going to the floor to kneel. It was cold and a bit uncomfortable but he made no sign of any of this. He just clasped his hands behind his back, shoulders straight, staring at the floor.

Holy shit, Dean was going to reward Frank so fucking well. He hadn’t been entirely sure that Frank would find it possible to adapt to this setting–he might fidget, or accidentally meet someone’s gaze, or possibly show some sign of rebellion when Crowley spoke over him–but the teenager did nothing wrong, remaining in Dean’s shadow with eyes down and hands behind him. Hell, Dean hadn’t even said to do that, and it looked fucking perfect.

When Frank knelt smoothly and without complaint, Dean nearly lost his calm and grinned openly, thrilled by the human’s compliance. He settled for placing one hand lightly on Frank’s head, stroking his hair in gentle, silent praise, and focused on Crowley speaking.

Frank actually felt rather relieved when Dean started stroking his hair. Obviously he was doing something right, something that was expected of him, and it helped keep him calm, letting his eyes trace patterns in the stone floor, examining shoes with slight boredom, just in general letting his mind wander.

As the meeting droned on, though, eventually Frank began to think of food. He realized he hadn’t had anything to eat since yesterday and his stomach felt a little too hollow to be comfortable. He wondered if Dean had anything good down here. Maybe a sandwich… No, he was craving something with more carbs. Pasta? Eh, close enough. No, garlic bread. Yeah, he was definitely craving some garlic bread.

To Dean’s shock, having Frank at his feet–a warm, solid presence pressed against his leg–made the time pass pleasantly. Business went much faster without Dean’s usual snark and attitude slowing things down, and Crowley eventually dismissed the demons around him with a wave, already moving on to something else.

Dean tugged gently on the chain to get Frank’s attention. “Up. We can go, now.” Once they left the throne room, he was going to ask the boy what he’d prefer–returning to their apartment, or perhaps going topside. He deserved something he wanted, for his excellent behavior.

A shadow fell over Frank, and Dean grit his teeth when Brady filled his line of sight. “The bites are a bit much, aren’t they? Rather childish, even.”

Suddenly the meeting was over and Dean gently tugged on the chain to let him know they could leave. Exhaling with some relief, he got back to his feet, legs a bit numb and tingly, his knees a bit sore from kneeling for so long. But that was okay, he was looking forward to eating some food.

Before they could get going Brady was there, blocking their path, making sneering remarks that Frank almost reacted to. Pressing his nail into his thumb, he managed to stop any of his thoughts from reaching his face, sticking close to Dean.

Dean stepped between Brady and Frank, his face darkening and black eyes glinting with danger. “If you’re itching for a fight, Brady, I’ll be happy to knock you on your ass, but not here. Don’t pretend you honestly want him, you just want to screw me over, and that won’t happen. The human is mine–fuck off.”

He pushed past him immediately, letting the cuff and chain serve to bring Frank along, and Dean managed to maintain utter stoicism until they were well out of the throne room.

“Shit,” he muttered, shoulders instantly slumping with relief. “That bastard is going to hunt me down and try to fucking shank me, eventually. Ridiculous.” Dean turned around, blinking his eyes back to green as he faced Frank. “Are you alright?”

Seeing Dean so…protective was kind of a surprise turn on, if only slightly. Thankfully Frank didn’t get an immediate and obvious boner, keeping himself neutral as the demon pulled him out of the throne room and away from Brady.

“Yeah I’m okay,” he said, breathing a little easier. “It’s not the first time I’ve been threatened. I once had to negotiate with someone who was holding a knife against my throat. This was practically a walk in the park.”

Dean snorted, reaching up to grasp the chain closer to Frank’s collar and using it to tug the teenager closer to himself. “Brave little thing, aren’t you, sweetheart. Knew you would be interesting,” the demon murmured, tilting his head and smiling at his pet.

Remembering what he wanted to do for Frank, Dean brightened, amusement flashing in his eyes. “Oh–and you did absolutely beautifully, by the way. You were completely perfect for me in there. Crowley was certainly pleased, so he won’t be backing any bullshit attempts like Brady’s.”

Dean raised his hand, tracing a fingertip along Frank’s jaw in a gentle caress. “I want to reward you for adjusting so well. Want to give you something that you’d like. What can I do for you, sweetheart?”

Frank blinked a little in surprise. Truthfully he hadn’t expected anything for his good behavior except the protection. But he didn’t want to refuse and look rude…

“Could we go out to eat?” he asked. “I’m really hungry, and I’m craving garlic bread of all things.”

The demon blinked in surprise, then laughed, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, sure. Italian for dinner? Why not.”

He pursed his lips, considering. “We’ll go topside for food. C'mon, should probably put you in a shirt and some shoes before I take you back among the living,” Dean chuckled, turning back towards the stairs down to his own apartment. “I would say I want you to keep the dollar on, but I’m betting you’ll balk at that.”

Frank reached up to touch the collar as he followed Dean back into the apartment. “We could keep it on, if we knew how to make it look normal… People don’t usually wear collars like this out in public, it gives others kind of a bad impression of them.”

So many people were so conservative about sex that they deemed it their role to tell others how they needed to make their sex lives more “traditional”. Frank was a prude but even he knew to never do that. Other peoples’ sex lives had nothing to do with him, so why would he care?

Dean barked a laugh as he led the way into the apartment, heading into the bedroom to collect a flannel shirt and grab Frank’s shoes from the bathroom. “See, that would matter if you care about what humans think. But I really don’t. And one of the goals of your training is to teach you not to.”

He turned to hand the teenager his clothes, then sat down on the end of the bed, tugging Frank close so that Dean could unclip the leash to let him get dressed. “I also happen to have handy connections. We’ll be eating somewhere that knows about my kind, and they play by our rules. So that question was more whether you’d have a panic attack about being seen wearing the collar, than whether anyone would comment.”

Dean smirked slightly. “Because any humans at this kind of place know better. Demons with pets are normal in our world, so they’d just know that you aren’t free to interact with anyone without my say-so.”

He blushed a little, tugging the shirt on as Dean explained. “Oh… I didn’t know that was possible. Other hunters I’ve met always said people either believed in demons and were terrified of them or people didn’t believe in them at all, and that it was rare that a demon ever possessed someone so people normally didn’t come into contact with one.”

Once he had the shirt on, he thought for a moment. “If…if you’re sure it’s okay then… I can try to wear the collar in public.”

“Yeah…” Dean made a slight face, memories flickering through the well-built barrier inside his mind, of another world and another lifestyle. Hunting was not nearly as luxurious or leisurely as being one of the creatures that ended up hunting. “I mean, yes, most humans are terrified. They either have inaccurate, pagan-based views of what we are, or they see it as a black and white thing–exorcise us without question.”

He stood, taking Frank’s wrists and doing the buttons of the sleeves absently. “But others figured out that we’re fun to have as friends, and learned to profit from it. There are people who have deals ranging back decades, because the demon who bargained with them likes whatever they’ve done with their bought luck, and keeps renewing it. So it’s like…using their souls for rent, in a way.”

Dean chuckled, reaching the chain to the collar once it was on Frank properly. “Most demons who take human pets don’t treat them quite like I have been with you. Slaves, really, or pack mules, things like that. But, well, I had more in mind for you,” he said, smirking as he stroked a finger down Frank’s cheek and throat, down to the collar.

He listened intently as Dean spoke. It was odd, how he seemed so incredibly human despite the demon side to him. He spoke as if being a creature of Hell was a perk, though from what Frank had seen and experienced, demons were almost uncontrollable. Many of them had bloodlust, seeking to harm as many people as possible.

At the touch to his cheek, the teen shivered slightly, though not of fear this time, looking up at the demon. “More in mind?” he repeated. “Like…being a sub, you mean. Giving up control.”

Dean offered a small shrug,his eyes glinting as he cocked his head, smiling down at Frank. “That’s certainly one. I see a lot of potential in you, and I very much want to be the one who explores those possibilities.”

Another tug of the chain brought Frank’s body much closer, almost chest-to-chest with the demon, and when Dean continued, his words fell against Frank’s cheek in soft puffs of breath. “I’ve now seen you lose control a few times, and you seemed to be enjoying it immensely. I think I’m right about you, sweetheart.” He chuckled softly. “And I do love being right.”

“Everyone does,” Frank fired back, blushing from how close they were. He could practically feel the heat of Dean’s body from their proximity, and it just made him think of earlier this morning, with the demon marking him up and pushing him over the edge of pleasure. And yes, it had felt good, but giving up control sounded so…frightening.

His entire life had been about control. Everything, from school to his cases to even taking care of Joe. Control of the situation meant Frank would rarely be caught off guard. And now Dean wanted to strip that control away, help him know that it was okay to let someone else take the wheel.

He let out a small breath, feeling how his heart was beating quickly. “…I trust you.”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up, surprise and excitement brightening his emerald irises at Frank’s words. He certainly hadn’t expected to succeed at earning the human’s trust that quickly, but he wasn’t going to complain for one fucking minute.

“Good,” he murmured in reply, his smile almost blinding in its satisfaction. “That…is excellent.”

Leaning forward, Dean closed the final inches remaining between them, his lips grazing against Frank’s just barely before he withdrew again, and then he went still, leaving it in Frank’s hands to initiate a deeper kiss, or not.

Of course, Dean could just take it if he wanted to, and now he knew there was a high chance that the teenager would let him without protesting or fighting him–but it was much more of an achievement if he could get Frank to  _ show _ that he wanted it, too. Like asking Dean out loud to touch him; it was a challenge that he wanted his boy to learn to  _ need _ .

Frank watched, slightly wary, as Dean moved in to brush their lips together for a few moments in a barely there kiss before the demon moved back a little, as if waiting for something, something he knew Frank would give.

This was all happening so fast, and it scared him, really it did. He had signed up for this, and while Dean had been rather careful at not pushing him into anything too quickly, Frank knew in the back of his mind what the demon expected out of him sooner or later. One side of Frank was rebelling. He couldn’t lose control, he couldn’t afford to! Bad things happened when he usually lost control.

But another side of him coaxed gently, making promises to him. Things went bad before when he lost control because in those situations he  _ needed _ control. In this case, he really didn’t need it. ‘Surrender,’ the little voice whispered. 'Surrender it all. You’ll be safe. Taken care of. Happy. Nothing bad will happen if you just gave in…’

A few moments of hesitation before Frank finally, shyly, tilted his head to catch Dean’s mouth in another, slightly more firm kiss.

For a brief second there, Dean had begun to be concerned that Frank really would be that stubborn, and refuse to give him the surrender he was silently demanding from the teenager.

But no, there it was–the flicker of resignation–and even, possibly, relief–as Frank talked himself into it, and then it was just about fucking adorable how innocently he leaned up to return Dean’s kiss. His mouth was cautious, almost curious, like he was asking permission for this, and Dean’s lips curved into a smile against Frank’s, delighted by the success.

He raised his cuffed hand to cup Frank’s jaw, the chain connecting them clinking quietly as the demon let his tongue flick out against Frank’s lips, seeking entrance. Dean wanted to taste every inch of the boy, to explore him completely and take mastery of his entire being–and he would start with this, with claiming Frank’s willing submission, making the human his in an unmistakable, physical, inescapable way.

Feeling the tongue flicking across his mouth, Frank blushed hard but willingly parted his lips to let the demon in. In all retrospect, compared to some of their other previous activities, this was the tamest thing Dean could do.

But Frank could feel his body reacting to the kiss all the same, his head slowly getting a bit muddled and fuzzy as his skin began to warm up. It was like his first kiss all over again; seventh grade, he had been coaxed out by a boy named Cory, during a friend’s birthday party. The sun had been setting and Cory had admitted that he really liked Frank, as more than a friend, and could he ask for one little kiss?

And clumsy, twelve year old Frank had agreed to one kiss, which turned into many for at least four months as they had secretly dated before Cory moved out of Bayport. The slight excitement, the anticipation, it was all so incredibly similar that for a moment the teen could think this was his first kiss all over again, except he was barely nineteen and kissing a demon.

_ Fuck, so damn receptive _ . Dean almost purred as Frank willingly opened up to him, moving his hand from the teen’s jaw around to tangle his fingers into Frank’s hair, holding his head as the demon began to kiss him more intently. He licked his way into the boy’s mouth, tasting him as thoroughly as he wanted to.

This was rapidly distracting him from the dinner plans they had just made, but unless Frank protested the change, Dean wasn’t particularly concerned about that. He nipped lightly at the teen’s bottom lip, aiming to tempt him, provoke him into exploring a little for himself.

“Your lips are delicious,” he muttered into the kiss, letting the hand not gripping Frank’s hair slide down his side, settling on his hip–Dean considered going straight for the ass, but decided to reign himself in for a minute–and tightening his fingers. “Opening right up for me,  such a good boy.”

The hand in his hair was definitely to keep him still, because the tongue sliding into his mouth was something he sort of, but not really, expected to happen. It felt a little weird, how it was licking around, especially how Dean seemed to hold him tighter as it happened, as if the demon liked this part.

At Dean’s somewhat dirty compliment, Frank was sure his face must have been bright red. He was feeling rather weak at the knees from the kiss but before he could say anything his stomach gave a particularly loud growl, indicating how hungry he was, which would probably atone to the light headedness. 

“T-thank you?” he stammered, pulling back slightly but not daring to pull himself out of the demon’s grip. “I, uh… I think we should get some dinner before we try anything else… I might end up passing out on you.”

The rumbling of Frank’s stomach broke the mood just enough that when he spoke, Dean merely chuckled, not nearly as annoyed as he could have been by the interruption.

“Yeah, probably true,” he said, smirking as he released his death-grip on Frank’s hair. “Don’t need you unconscious any more often than you have to be. It’s much less exciting than when you’re awake and functional.” Dean grinned at his own innuendo, very much hoping they could resume exploring the kissing element after Frank had some food in him.

Turning to grab his keys, Dean headed toward the door. He led the way back through Hell’s hallways, and up to the portal, bringing them out into mid-afternoon sunshine.

“I’m glad you’ve gotten your appetite back,” he remarked, leading the way back to the Impala. “Would’ve started worrying that you were starving yourself on purpose, otherwise.”

Frank blushed at Dean’s comment, not sure how to respond. However, he was saved from responding when Dean grabbed his keys and led them back out of the apartment. The hallways were empty and quiet, though he did still hear agonized cries from the cell doors. Willing himself not to panic Frank just blocked his ears with his hands until they were finally stepping towards the portal, far away from any screaming.

When they got outside, he lowered his hands, blinking to try and help his eyes adjust to the light. But the fresh air, the sounds of birds, it all felt rather comforting and felt less trapped. Being outside tended to keep him calm.

Then Dean spoke again and Frank glanced at the demon as they headed back to the car. “The only times I’ve ever had to refuse food was when I was in a situation when I thought the food was drugged. I used to be a detective, sometimes when you’re held hostage you can’t trust even a salad.”

Dean nodded in concession to that, unclipping the leash from Frank’s collar in order to unlock the car and climbing inside. “Valid point. Hunters had to be paranoid like that, too, sometimes. Though more often than not, we were just too worried about  _ where _ the next meal was coming from to much care what was going into it. And if you’re doing the job right, anything that wants you dead gets ganked before it figures out you’re a hunter.”

He drove back toward the town where the apartment was located, heading into the nicer part of the city and parking behind a small, modest-looking Italian restaurant. “Alright, sweetheart, let’s get you that garlic bread,” he said with a smirk, going around to open the teen’s door for him, and reattaching the leash.

Frank was quiet for the drive, staring out the window and letting the sun warm his face again. So, Dean used to be a hunter. The teen hadn’t missed the “we” slip. He supposed that made sense, hunters knew more about demons than regular civilians did. He couldn’t help but wonder what Dean’s human life had been like. Did he grow up a hunter? Did he join the world of monsters on his own? And what of his brother, the man he had mentioned a few times but had never said a name to? If he sold his soul for his brother, had they had been as close as Frank had been with Joe?

So many questions… But he didn’t think he could ask. The last thing he wanted was to get Dean offended or hurt, or remind him of things he probably didn’t even want to remember.

When they pulled into the driveway of the Italian restaurant, Frank waited as Dean went to open the passenger side door, getting out and letting the demon clip the chain to his collar again. “Been a while since I was in a restaurant,” he remarked.

“Really?” Dean raised his eyebrows curiously as he turned toward the door, walking slowly. “Because of money, or the poison paranoia?”

“Kind of both,” Frank replied honestly. 

When they reached the front door, he paused, and just like in the throne room earlier, his shoulders straightened a little, a hard edge entering his green eyes. “Alright, this is going to be another ‘public appearances’ situation. I have…a certain reputation, not just in Hell but anywhere that knows about demons. I don’t do soft, or friendly.”

He glanced back at Frank, mouth twisting slightly. “I can’t be too nice to you, here. You’re a pet, collared and leashed and expected to be quiet and behave yourself. If I indicate it, you may speak, and I’m gonna let you order your own food and all that. But you’ll undoubtedly piss off other demons if you talk to me like it’s normal for you to be allowed to.”

Reaching out, he touched Frank’s face lightly, just barely more than a brushing of the fingertips. “Sorry in advance. It’s just how my world is,” Dean said. Then his eyes flickered to black, and he turned and opened the door, leading the way inside.

When Dean paused at the door, Frank knew what was coming. Already a change had come over the demon, from how his expression was to how he was holding himself. The teen listened carefully as Dean explained the rules, and how to make sure he didn’t do anything to make anyone angry. Basically it would be like this morning, except there was food involved, and for a split second Frank regretted asking if they could go out. Except for when he would be with Joe, Frank always felt so awkward being one on one with someone else, even in a setting such as this. While he didn’t tend to blabber on like his brother did, he usually tried to use conversation to make things less awkward.

But he could tell Dean was being serious, so he clasped his hands behind his back and bowed his head again. “I understand.”

The the doors were opened and Dean was leading him inside.

As much as it was irritating to have to keep up a cold front, Dean vastly preferred places like this, where his kind was recognized, feared, and treated with respect and unease. He didn’t even need the black eyes to get what he wanted, but it was certainly more fun this way.

The hostess’ eyes widened when she saw him, and she didn’t say a word, just grabbed a menu and headed toward the back area, where each table was secluded, and the bar was nice and close. Dean kept his senses on Frank, making sure he didn’t yank too hard on the collar as he followed the girl without looking back at his companion.

At the table he sat down, muttering an order for a whiskey, and water for Frank. The girl hurried away at once, and within a moment, a waitress arrived with the drinks, then stood to one side, waiting.

Dean glanced around, but there weren’t too many guests around, and with the privacy the booth offered, he knew no one would notice who would care. “You can sit at the table,” he told Frank quietly. “There will be times when I have to put you at my feet, like it was in court, but I’ll avoid it when I can.” He placed the menu in front of Frank, open to the entrees. “Get whatever you want, it’s free for us.”

The place was kind of fancy, which definitely impressed the teenager, and he could tell just by the noise that it wasn’t as busy as it normally would be. As they followed the hostess to their table, he glanced around, keeping his head down just in case, taking in the room and mapping any exits automatically in case anything went wrong.

When they reached their table, Frank was a bit relieved that he could sit in the chair rather than on the floor. No offense meant to the cleaning staff, but the rug looked scratchy and uncomfortable, so he took the seat as Dean handed the menu over, giving him a chance to order something.

“The fried mozerella sticks look good,” he replied quietly. “Can I try those?”

Dean nodded, gesturing imperiously toward the waitress, who stepped close enough to be hear them. He repeated Frank’s order, and added garlic bread and bruschetta as well, which sent the waitress scurrying to place the appetizers.

Leaning back against the thick padding of the booth, Dean sighed, sipping slowly at his whiskey. “I don’t get out to just enjoy myself like this, enough,” he muttered, looking around with a tiny smile. “Too busy dealing with Crowley and handling deals. Another good use for you, I suppose,” he said jokingly, glancing at Frank, laughter lines creasing around his black gaze. “Getting out topside just for the sake of being out.”

The food was brought, and Dean toyed with a slice of bread absently as he watched Frank. “How were you a detective when you’re only 19?” the demon asked abruptly, suddenly curious about his pet. “It’s fine for you to speak, no one’s here who’s important enough to concern me.”

He smiled back a little, relaxing and taking a sip of his water as the food was brought out. The garlic bread smelled fantastic and so did the mozzarella sticks. Taking two of each, he began to eat, the familiar tang of his guilty pleasure food helping him relax a bit more.

At Dean’s question, his chewing slowed as he considered it before swallowing. “My father,” he said, some bitterness coming into his tone. “He was a cop for years and a private investigator most of his life. Joe and I kind of followed in his footsteps when we were in middle school and high school. Practically worshipped him, we wanted to do whatever would make him proud of us. Even if that meant brushing death every few weeks when we didn’t have to. But it wasn’t enough. It never was.”

Listening to Frank tell his story, Dean’s eyebrows rose with every word until they were as high as they could go. A short, bitter laugh escaped him when Frank paused, and the demon shook his head in amusement.

“Well, go figure. A demon and a boy scout with nearly identical backstories, that’s something I wouldn’t have predicted. Well, mostly identical. John Winchester was far from a cop.” Dean stopped, considering that, then shrugged. “Former Marine, but I don’t credit it to him too much.”

Returning his attention to Frank, Dean nodded slowly. “Makes sense. Lot of past tense, there–the old man bite the dust?”

Well that was certainly interesting. So Dean had a pretty dumb and dangerous childhood too? Frank couldn’t help but sympathize a little. Crappy fathers he could clearly understand.

At the next question, he could feel himself grow cold, scowling down at the food like he wanted to stab it. “He better be. If he’s not, I just might kill him myself for abandoning us when we needed him the most,” he grumbled. “Disappeared during a case, never heard from him again.”

Frank could still remember, clear as day, spending hours, weeks, months on the phone and the computer, scouring over his father’s old files and desperately trying to find a clue, anything, that would let him know where his father was, what he might have been doing, how he seemed to vanish into thin air. Aunt Trudy had ended up dying of a stroke, no doubt from grief, and then when their mother got into that accident, as she lay dying in the hospital, Frank hounded all of his father’s cell phone numbers, crying and begging Fenton to come home.

“I know you’re alive!” he had raged once, hours before the hospital had to pull the plug on the life support barely holding his mother together. “Mom’s practically dead, Joe and I will be alone, do you even care? DO WE MATTER SO LITTLE TO YOU, YOU BASTARD?”

There had been no response. His mother had died and the CPS had circled them like hawks, prepared to take Joe into foster care due to his status as a minor. Frank, terrified and desperate, had taken whatever they could carry, grabbed his brother and they had escaped Bayport in the dead of night in nothing but an old van with no licence plates. And he had vowed if they ever ran into Fenton Hardy again, that he would kill the man where he stood. Let him know what it feels like to be so helpless.

Dean snorted, taking a bite of garlic bread and swallowing it before he replied. “Fuck, you’re like a duplicate of my life–except the still being a virgin at 19 thing, but yeah. Though, to be fair, I didn’t have the pull the trigger on mine, and I know for sure it happened.”

He sighed, swirling his drink morosely. “I guess I should give ‘im credit, at least he tried to redeem himself. Died making a deal to save me, of all things.” Dean’s black eyes flashed slightly. “Guess he shouldn’t have bothered. I was headed for the same ending no matter what.”

Glancing back at Frank, Dean licked his lips, going for the bruschetta next. “So, you basically raised the kid brother. No wonder he was so pissed at me for taking you. Sam would have shot any demon in the head who tried what I did.”

 

“We were always close,” Frank admitted. “Mom used to say I’d follow her around when we were babies, just to make sure he was okay. And with all the shit we went through, I guess we got kind of codependent of each other. Couldn’t really help that.”

Except for his mother and his aunt, Joe was the one person Frank knew without a doubt that he loved. His best friend, his confidant, his brother, his everything. Making a deal to sell his soul was logical at the time. And he knew Joe would probably search for a way to save Frank from his contract, some kind of loophole or technicality, though they both knew there would be nothing to find.

“What about your brother?” he asked a bit hesitantly. “Is he still around?”

A bitter smile crossed Dean’s face, and he looked away for a moment, contemplating the memories that he hadn’t bothered looking at for several years.

“Nah,” he finally replied. “Sam’s gone, now. While I was down below getting the makeover–” Dean pointed towards his black eyes, smirking faintly. “–an old enemy of ours caught up to Sammy boy. He’d tried to kill him a few times, while I was still human, and kept failing. But word got out that I was six feet under, and he tracked the kid down and took him by surprise.”

Dean shrugged, his expression blank again once more. “By the time I got cleared to work in the world again, he’d been buried a good few months. I visited his grave once, just to see. And I hunted down the bastard who did it, because why not. I did tell him he’d die if he touched my brother. Just because I didn’t much care by then doesn’t mean I’m not a man of my word.” He chuckled darkly. “Poor Walker. He really believed the Boy King bullshit.”

Frank couldn’t help the twinge of pity that ran through him. Dean was a demon now, and he could say what he wanted, but there were subtle clues in his body language, in his tone of voice, that suggested he did care that his brother was dead, murdered by the hands of someone obviously psychotic. And he missed him too.

It made him think of all the times someone tried threatening Joe, how Frank felt this animalistic darkness rise up every time someone tried to lay even a single finger onto his brother in any threatening way. Something he usually tried to suppress, because losing that much control would not have ended well for him. But just like he knew selling his soul for save Joe was logical in his own mind, killing someone to protect his brother would be something he wouldn’t think twice on, if he had no other choice. 

“I don’t blame you,” he murmured. “Sometimes revenge really is the best policy.”

Dean shrugged, finishing off his whiskey and nodding to the waitress for a second glass. “It certainly felt good at the time. But…” The demon paused, frowning slightly, then sighed. “It is its own kind of poison, in a way. You can get addicted to being angry, just to justify what it lets you do.”

He left that thought there for a moment, then chuckled. “Then again, I’m a demon. My soul’s in no state for me to give a shit about being angry. Anyway, are you still hungry? You can get a full meal, if you want one. I even have a working fridge down below, so you can get enough to take some home.” He blinked, then laughed slightly. “Fuck, I’m gonna have to care about groceries again. Can’t have you going hungry on my watch just because I forget that humans need food.”

Dean knew he was sort of rambling, but he couldn’t help it; he disliked that Frank had somehow made him actually want to share old, useless information about his human life. It didn’t affect him anymore. Sam wasn’t in Hell–he had checked. So who cared anymore, what had happened years ago.

 

He noticed the change in subject, how Dean seemed to want to move the conversation away from any old subjects. He could understand that.

“I think I’m okay,” he replied. “I’ll finish this and then when we get back I can write out a grocery list.”

He bit into another slice of garlic bread, liking how the buttery cheesy taste filled him up. Italian food was the best food, and he had actually been in Italy. Hell, he had been pretty much everywhere; Paris, Canada, Alaska, Greece, South America… He had even gone to the South Pole, but that trip had thankfully been very brief, a few days at most.

“Awesome.” Dean finished off the bruschetta, humming softly in pleasure at the taste. “I always forget how nice food is. Flavor is everything, who cares if you need the sustenance or not.”

Once they were finished with everything, Dean stood, cracking his neck as he downed the rest of his whiskey and tugged the chain out from under the table. “Alright…back to the real world,” he muttered, heading out and letting the leash tug taut between them to bring Frank along after him.

“Is there anything else you wanted to do while we’re topside?” he asked over his shoulder as they left the building.

For a moment, Frank was tempted. There were a few things he really wanted to do. Check on Joe was one of them, make sure he made it to Nancy’s safely at least. With Frank no longer around, his brother would need safety and stability, and Nancy was one of their closest friends; she always offered them a place to stay if they ever needed it.

Another thing he wanted to do was go to his mother’s gravesite. He hadn’t been there since the funeral, and sometimes her absence made his chest ache something fierce. He missed her, terribly, missed how she would smile at him, missed how she would check on his various wounds after a case, missed how she would show up in his room past midnight when he was up late working on a case or homework, hot chocolate in hand, and kiss his forehead, reminding him not to stay up too late or he’d be cranky the next day.

But he didn’t want to inconvenience Dean either. They were still on new and rather shaky ground. They needed some time before he started asking for special favors. So he just shook his head. “I’m good.”

Dean paused, eyeing the teenager’s face closely, but whatever was going on in Frank’s mind, the demon could see he wasn’t looking to share it. He nodded, releasing Frank from the leash so they could get back into the car.

“Home it is, then,” he replied, making the drive back toward the abandoned lot with the portal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We can be found on tumblr at @minxchester and @hunting-hardy-brothers.


	7. Chapter 7

As they descended back through the hallways into Hell, a curvy brunette appeared out of one of the cells, blood smeared on her cheek and a cruel smile curling her equally crimson red lips. “Dean,” she said, her voice low and sensuous. “Heard your new toy’s gotten lots of folks round here all hot and bothered. Any chance you’d share with an old pal?”

Dean snorted, tugging the reattached chain to draw Frank closer to himself. “You know I adore your style, Meg, but it’s not my scene in the bedroom. Sorry, sweetheart–he’s all mine.”

“Shame,” she said with a teasing little scowl, reaching out to trail a sharp fingernail along Frank’s cheek as she passed by them. “He’s very pretty, you lucky bastard.” Another scream from the cell she’d just left made her glance back at the steel door, chuckling coldly. “You could have been useful in there. Dirtbag serial killer. Fun to break.”

If it was one thing that really did scare Frank, it was a woman like Meg, demon or not. She exuded a vibe that instantly put him on guard and he almost flinched when her nail touched his cheek, as if expecting her to rip it right off and continue on her way without another word about it.

The scream really did cause him to flinch, not sure if moving closer to Dean would be a good thing or not, so he stayed where he was, though he knew he was probably looking pale again. He didn’t even want to imagine what was going on in that cell.

Dean heaved a sigh the instant Meg was out of sight, shaking his head as if in slight exasperation. “She is going to get herself killed just by talking someday,” he muttered, then glanced back at Frank. The look on the teen’s face immediately had Dean stiff. “Woah, hey, you still with me? Fuck, you look ready to faint again. Your stomach cannot be this fragile, kid, you were a damn detective.”

He dragged Frank away from the dungeons, getting him back to their own home and onto the living room couch. “Breathe, okay? Do you need water? Talk to me, Frank.”

“My stomach isn’t fragile but my mental stability might be,” Frank shot back a bit testily once they were in the apartment. “Yeah, Dean, I was a detective, but I went through things no one should ever go through. Sorry that anything that might remind me of my own torture experiences tries to trigger a flashback!”

He took a shaky breath, rubbing at his wrists as he struggled to recompose himself. Joining the hunting world after quitting detective work so soon had been Hell on his mental state, and he knew actually being in Hell would not help matters.

Dean froze, his brain stuttering to a halt for a second before he found his wits again. “When the fuck were you tortured?” he asked, letting go of Frank and settling back on his heels. It would explain a whole fucking lot of things, though, and Dean couldn’t help cursing himself silently, wondering how the fuck he could have missed signs of that kind of trauma.

“I’m sorry,” he added, frowning as his eyes went green again, locked on Frank’s face. “I had no idea.”

Frank raised his eyes from his slightly shaky hands to look up at Dean. The demon looked startled, like he never thought that Frank had gone through such a thing.

“A lot,” he admitted quietly. “A little after I turned fifteen and the detective work got more gritty, more dangerous. People were try to force me to tell them information. Give them plans I stole back, locations of people they wanted to kill. If I didn’t talk then they’d get…creative.”

“Holy fuck,” Dean muttered, looking away in slight discomfort. “No wonder you reacted so intensely to the dungeons, shit. I’ve been a real asshole.”

A sudden thought occurred to him, and Dean stiffened, looking back down at the faded blue stripes of the flannel shirt he’d given Frank to wear. “Your chest,” he said slowly, realization dawning. “You looked miserable when I made you strip–I always ignore scars because everyone has ‘em and they’re just stories, but you looked like you were afraid.”

He raised his green eyes to meet Frank’s, the irises darkening to a heated jade. “Is that why? Are those marks from being tortured?”

Frank slowly nodded, pressing his nails into his palm to make sure he didn’t have a breakdown. After a case in Misty Falls, he had trouble sometimes telling reality from fiction, and causing himself some discomfort was a homemade way of making sure he stayed grounded.

He took a deep breath. “From the ages of fifteen to eighteen, I have been shot, drowned, electrocuted, drugged, hit by a car, stabbed, drugged, burned… I’ve lost count how many times each. One time I was even infected rabies, on purpose, because some psycho wanted to see the effects. Honestly I don’t even know how I’m still alive…”

Dean exhaled harshly, closing his eyes for a heartbeat, because the rage that bubbled up in his stomach would be needed later; it would benefit him when he was face-to-face with every single person who had ever touched his boy, but it was useless now, when it was Frank himself in front of the demon.

“Fuckers,” he murmured, jaw clenched tight. “They are going to get what’s coming to them.”

He sighed more softly, leaning forward and cupping Frank’s face between his palms. “Listen to me. That is all behind you, now. No one will ever touch you without your permission again, because I will remove their hands, eyes, and intestines, and that is not an exaggeration. Right this second, what can I do to help you calm down?”

The intensity of those green eyes startled Frank. The demon, it seemed, really did seem to care about him, wanted to help him.

He swallowed a little. “Just… T-touch me? Not sexually, just… Sensory pressure, it helps. Sometimes I have nightmares, sometimes I have flashbacks and sometimes I disassociate with myself. Like I’m not completely here, mentally. Can’t tell reality from fiction. Touching helps. Touching lets me know I’m okay, I’m safe and what I’m doing, wherever I am, it’s real…”

Dean nodded slowly, his jaw tightening as Frank spoke. “Yeah. Yeah, touching is okay, I can do that.” He gently drew Frank off of the couch towards himself, settling down to sit on the carpet and hold the teenager in his lap.

For a moment, Dean forgot about it all. He ignored who and what he was, all of Hell around them, even the collar on Frank’s throat and the chain linking them together. He simply was, in that moment, arms wrapped around Frank and bodies pressed together as he held the human.

It was a bit awkward, being in Dean’s lap like this, but he figured after the others thing they had already done, this was actually very tame. So he pressed a little closer, resting his head on the demon’s shoulder and closing his eyes, breathing in deep and even breaths. Dean smelled like sulfur, and pie, weird enough. But not altogether terrible.

It took a little while but soon the shivering went away. His heart wasn’t beating as fast anymore. But he didn’t want to get up. For the first time he truly felt safe in Dean’s arms. He didn’t want to ruin it, not now.

The very fact that Frank relaxed into his hold was a victory, and Dean chose not to comment, but simply enjoyed the silent surrender. He kept one arm around the teenager’s waist, holding him close to the demon’s body, and the other hand rose to pet lightly through his hair. Dean even had the impulse to speak, but he didn’t really do the whole “soothing nothings” thing, so he remained quiet.

When he eventually felt Frank calming down, Dean smiled faintly, relieved by the gradual transition. He wanted to check that Frank was okay, but the human was making no move to pull away, and Dean felt no hurry, himself. “Better?” he settled for asking softly.

“Yeah,” he replied quietly. “A lot better, actually. Thanks.” He closed his eyes again, sighing. “Just so you know, this doesn’t happen very often… It’s been a very stressful few days is all.”

Chuckling drily, Dean nodded, shifting to better balance Frank’s weight more evenly over his thighs, and squirming until he couch lean back against the base of the sofa. “Well, that’s a relief. But I better understand the source of your anxiety now, so…that’s progress.”

He pursed his lips, frowning into space above Frank’s head. “You won’t ever end up in one of those cells. I can promise you that. If it helps to hear,” he said, his voice lowering by the end. Dean glanced down at Frank, his green eyes bright in the limited space between them, expression intense, and sincere.

“That actually is good to hear. Thanks.” He managed a slight smile. “Suddenly this deal doesn’t seem so terrible anymore.”Dean laughed in surprise, not having expected that comment at all. “Well, now, that’s nice to hear. Glad you’re coming around, sweetheart.” His smile softened, and Dean moved his hand from Frank’s hair down to cup his chin in a soft caress.

“If I’d known that about your past, I would have told you it won’t ever happen to you right from the start,” he told the teenager, his tone more serious now. “Still a heartless bastard,” he added, mouth quirking teasingly. “But not so heartless that I’d have left you rotting in that fear on purpose. Just so you know.”

Frank couldn’t help but lean into the touch like a cat searching for companionship. Was that weird, him doing that while still sprawled in the demon’s lap, practically snuggling him? Dean didn’t seem to think it was weird, he actually seemed to like it. So, the teen made no move to get out.

“I know,” he replied. “I just… I didn’t really think you’d care. Only met you three days ago when I was desperate to save my brother’s life, you scared the shit out of me. Thought I’d have to try to make the best out of a bad situation. But it hasn’t been terrible, as of late…”

Huffing a laugh, Dean nodding, leaning his head back against the couch cushions. “True, you really have had no cause to like or to trust me.” His gaze flickered to the collar, snug around Frank’s throat, and Dean smiled weakly. “I didn’t give you any reason to think I’d care, I suppose. But to be fair, we made a long-term deal. I’d have to care about your well-being at least a little, if I planned to keep you around for any amount of time.”

His hand rubbed gently down Frank’s back, fingers tucking under the hem of the flannel to touch bare, warm skin. “Life down here…well, to be honest, you’re gonna need my help to ‘make the best’ of it.” The demon shrugged slightly, meeting Frank’s eyes. “And as long as you work with me, you’ve got it.” Hooking his fingers under the edge of the collar, Dean tugged at it absently, watching it press into the teenager’s neck lightly.

Frank glanced up at the demon when he felt Dean’s hands slip under the shirt, touching his skin as he spoke. “I have a pretty good idea as to what you’re talking about,” he remarked dryly.

He suddenly thought of something and blushed, glancing away and wetting his lips a little. “I, uh… I still owe you, don’t I? You’ve kind of made me cum a few times already and you haven’t… You know. I still don’t wanna suck you off, that sounds gross and weird, and yes I know, you sucked me off earlier, it still felt weird okay? But… Whatever else you wanna do without going all the way…”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up, and then he had to smirk, his eyes flashing darkly as the pupils expanded, arousal flickering in at the edges of his gaze. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard such an adorable, stuttered proposition before. Don’t sound so enthusiastic, sweetheart, you’ll make my heart flutter,” the demon teased, but he gave the collar another tug just the same, bringing Frank’s face closer to his own.

“It isn’t a debt system,” Dean murmured, his lips almost touching the teen’s as he spoke. “I liked watching your face when you get off, because you dropped all the defensiveness and stiffness and just enjoyed what you’re feeling. And you moan damn pretty, too.”

His hips shifted beneath Frank’s, unable to hide his growing interest, but Dean didn’t move hurriedly; it was more of a lazy grind, pressing his rising erection against the curve of Frank’s ass through the thin sweatpants. “So if you’re only offering because  _ you’ve _ come three times, then no, I’m not buying just yet. But if you’re actually looking to learn a little more, that’s a different matter.” Closing the gap, Dean gave his bottom lip a taunting little nip.

It sounded suspiciously like the demon was mocking him. That smirk curling his mouth, how his eyes flashed black again, even as he started grinding a very obvious erection against his ass, it all teased a bit of mockery.

Frank couldn’t help how he knew his face was turning red at Dean’s remark about his moaning. “S-shut up!” he muttered, his eyes darting away as he was unable to keep eye contact, not with how Dean was looking at him. “I-I’m a guy, ’m not pretty…”

He still felt like he owed the demon, however. Sue him, he was raised to play fair, even if the situation was weird. But if Dean wasn’t going to take him up on the offer, then he would have to play along with whatever Dean had in mind. “F-fine… I guess I could l-learn something new…”

Dean snorted, his fingers sliding up to catch Frank’s jaw and bring his face forward again, green eyes blazing into grey. “Guys can be pretty too, sugar, trust me. It’s a good word for your eyes, and lips…” The demon traced one fingertip over the features he was mentioning, watching Frank shiver slightly beneath his touch. “But if it bothers you, I can find better ways to flatter you, don’t worry.”

He raised his knees slightly, bringing Frank flush against him. Dean slid his other hand beneath the flannel, palming the human’s side and digging the pads of his fingers into Frank’s flesh, feeling the heat of his body increasing from their contact.

“So no blowjobs…” Dean mused, amusement still rippling through his voice. “And you’re saying it’s my turn, which takes out teasing you until you shatter…” Licking his lips, the demon smirked up at Frank, wiggling his eyebrows. “You’re limiting my options, handsome. We’re down to handjobs, frotting…or, you know, actual sex,” he added, his smile spreading into a shit-eating grin.

His breath hitched in slight surprise, grabbing onto Dean’s shoulders as the demon pulled him flush against him. Dean’s hands grabbed onto his skin, tightening a little and Frank could feel his own body reacting again, the sweatpants becoming rather snug in the front.

“I-I just…” God could he just once be able to think coherently when sexual things were involved?! “Y-you’ve been m-making me cum and you said the other night you haven’t had a turn, I-I was just trying to be considerate… I’m not ready for full on sex yet!”

Nodding, Dean pressed his lips to the skin just above Frank’s collar, feeling the teenager’s pulse skyrocket from his suggestion. “Okay, no actual sex yet,” he confirmed, chuckling quietly against Frank’s throat. “No need to panic, baby boy, I was just teasing you.”

He could feel Frank’s cock hardening between them, and Dean chuckled, bracing his hands on the teen’s hips and rolling his own up to rub their clothed erections together slowly. “Very considerate of you,” he breathed out, mouth roaming upward to suck lightly at Frank’s jawline. “Seems like you’re very eager to be so courteous.”

Frank felt himself blushing even harder. An instinct of his wanted to shut this entire thing down and hide in the bedroom.

But Dean had a pretty good grip on him, and the mouth on his neck traveling towards his jaw seemed to have an effect on him, his cock growing a bit harder, Dean’s voice in his ear like he was something special. 

‘Surrender,’ that little voice in his head whispered encouragingly. 'Surrender, and it’ll feel so good… You’ll feel so good… That’s what he wants, for you to give in. Let him make you feel good.’

Dean groaned softly as he felt Frank relaxing into his hold, trying to let himself give in to the sensations and not fight. “That’s it, sweetheart, that’s good,” the demon praised him, his voice rough and throaty from lust. “Just let me take care of it, baby boy.”

His mouth turned a little harder against Frank’s throat, nipping and biting lightly at the sensitive skin, adding a few new marks to the collection, above his collar. Reaching between them, Dean worked his jeans open, but left his briefs on to cover his cock.

Without the thick denim in the way, it was just the silk of his underwear and cotton of Frank’s sweatpants between their erections, and Dean had to stop marking Frank’s neck as he dropped his head back with a low moan, hips shuddering against the teenager’s. He hadn’t gotten off just by frotting against someone in, oh, probably over a decade, but there was just something about the innocence and sweetness of how Frank touched and let him touch, and fuck if it didn’t already have Dean halfway there.

His fingers were clenched almost too-tightly into the human’s thighs, and later Dean would kiss those marks in apology, but for now– _ fuck _ . He held Frank more snugly against himself, thrusting up shallowly between the younger man’s legs and feeling their cocks rub smoothly together, the friction soothed by the thin materials. “Fuck, I’m already–close,” Dean breathed, green eyes fluttering shut as he rocked against the boy straddling him.

He knew it was going to happen, but Dean rolling his hips and grinding against him still caught him by some surprise.

What was even more surprising was how his body reacted. As soon as Dean opened his jeans and pressed their still covered erections together, grinding against him, Frank’s entire body shivered. “F-fuck–”

The friction was torturous, the feeling of the demon’s large cock rubbing against his through the boundaries of the underwear and the sweatpants, how Dean’s hips moved steadily, if a bit fast, groaning low in his throat as if this was the hottest thing he had ever done.

As for Frank, he was back in a hazy mindset of pleasure, his breathing hitched and small whimpers escaping him with every particularly hard grind. For the first time, he forcefully shoved his anxious thoughts away and finally let go, finally let instinct take over. His own hips started moving, grinding back, his hands reaching up to find the demon’s shoulders, his neck, moving with some desperation.

“C-close,” he choked out, either repeating Dean’s grunted words or confirming his own building pressure in his gut, he didn’t know. He was sure he looked like some kind of bitch in heat, but he couldn’t help it, it all felt so good!

The feeling of Frank’s body finally responding, his hips and thighs beginning to grind back down against Dean’s own, made the demon’s brain short-circuit slightly. When Frank grasped his shoulders, Dean groaned gutturally, his spine straightening and his hands tugging Frank closer to push their groins as tightly together as he possibly could.

“Fuck, yes,” he growled. “You gonna come too, sweetheart, gonna come with me? Want to feel you soak the front of these pants, shit, c’mon, baby boy, want you to come with me–”

The feeling of Frank’s body finally responding, his hips and thighs beginning to grind back down against Dean’s own, made the demon’s brain short-circuit slightly. When Frank grasped his shoulders, Dean groaned gutturally, his spine straightening and his hands tugging Frank closer to push their groins as tightly together as he possibly could.

“Fuck, yes,” he growled. “You gonna come too, sweetheart, gonna come with me? Want to feel you soak the front of these pants, shit, c’mon, baby boy, want you to come with me–”

Dean felt it, the moment that Frank fell across the line and stopped overthinking every single detail and simply fell into his climax. Watching the teenager shudder as he came, back arching and voice breaking as he gasped the demon’s name, soaking the sweatpants and shaking violently through his orgasm, Dean hit his own peak, snarling and tugging Frank down to press his teeth punishingly into Frank’s shoulder as he came as well.

For a moment all he could feel was the contact between them, chests pressed together and shirts hot and damp with sweat, and the thick, sticky sensation of the come rapidly cooling at both of their groins, and Dean sighed, revealing in the utter debauchery of the sensations.

“Fucking perfection,” he breathed, leaning back against the couch with a low almost-moan. “Shit, sweetheart, you are a damn porn star when you want to be. That was…that was stunning.”

The bite seemed to just help push him along, forcing a few more weak spurts before Frank went limp, head tilted back with his eyes half closed, panting for breath as Dean just held him, teeth firmly imbedded into his shoulder.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed. Could have been a few seconds, could have been a few minutes. Either way, he soon slowly came down from the high, feeling Dean pull away, the bite spot twinging a bit in reaction. At Dean comparing him to a porn star, Frank coughed a little, covering his mouth shyly as he glanced away, too relaxed from the orgasm to immediately lock up as he usually would have done. “Hardly,” he mumbled.

The demon smirked up at him, shifting to get more comfortable and wincing slightly when their semen-soaked clothes dragged together. “I meant it,” he retorted, chuckling. “You were on fire, handsome, that was one hell of a ride. And you got off on it too, so you can’t say it wasn’t fun.”

He sat up, wrapping his arms firmly around Frank’s waist, holding him snugly. “You wanna shower? We probably both stink by now. I could wash you off,” Dean offered, wiggling his eyebrows teasingly. “Any excuse to get you naked.”

“Didn’t say it wasn’t fun,” Frank shot back, blushing again. “But, yeah, a shower sounds nice…” The idea of trying to lounge around in clothes that recently had been covered in come did not sound appealing in the least. Definitely unhygienic. Besides, Frank was used to showering every day, just trying to stay clean. It had been a couple since his last real shower, when he could just stand under the spray and take his time washing his hair and scrubbing off the sweat and grime.Dean nodded lazily, carefully maneuvering them both to their feet without letting too much space get between them. He wasn’t much of a touch-needy person, usually, but to his surprise, Dean found he rather strongly liked the heat of Frank’s body against his own. It was a nicer reminder that the teen was right there, tangible–his.

“Alrighty, shower time,” he muttered, turning to lead the way into the bathroom, the chain still linking his wrist to Frank’s collar. After turning on the water water, he turned to unclip and remove the cuff on his arm, then paused, sighing as he reached around Frank’s neck to unbuckle the collar itself.

“I like this on you,” Dean said, his fingers stroking the extra-warm skin where the leather had rested. “When you’re not showering or sleeping, I want you wearing it.”

Walking to the shower made Frank realize how clumsy he was after orgasming, kind of wobbly on his feet. Thankfully Dean held onto him, helping him in, so that was something he didn’t have to worry about.

When Dean took the collar off and gave the order that he wanted Frank wearing it unless he was showering or sleeping, the teen nodded. “Okay…” The collar meant protection, ownership, and if the demon wanted him wearing it then Frank wasn’t about to refuse or argue.

Setting the collar safely aside on the counter, Dean turned his attention to the clothes, gently tugging the sweat and come-stained sweats off of Frank and tossing them over the edge of the bathtub. “Guess I better start doing laundry more often,” he said lightly, chuckling to himself as he guided the teen’s arms out of the flannel, too.

Stripping quickly himself, Dean guided Frank under the spray of the water, tilting the shower head so that they both had room to stand beneath it. He sighed in pleasure at the hot, heavy pressure washing over them, rolling his shoulders slowly to loosen them.

Grabbing the shampoo bottle, Dean poured some into his hand, then paused and looked at Frank. “May I, or are you picky about washing your own hair?”

Stepping into the shower with Dean, Frank sighed a little, the hot spray of the water hitting him just right. Showers were usually a good place, a safe place for him to be alone and think about things, let his mind wander and slow down.

When Dean asked if he wanted the demon to wash his hair before him, he blinked, a bit surprised. “Wait, you… You want to wash my hair too?”

Dean almost laughed at the confusion on the teenager’s face, but he was experiencing something unusually close to self-consciousness at the same time, and he shrugged in response. “Yes? I dunno, I guess I really just enjoy touching you. It seems like a small thing to do for you. And to be honest, I am trying to actually earn the trust you decided to put in me,” he added, referring to Frank’s earlier admission. “So…taking care of you in random, stupid ways seems…okay.”

Dean glanced down at the shampoo in his hand, then back into Frank’s eyes. “If it’s alright with you, anyway.”

He saw how Dean seemed to falter a little, something like uncertainty crossing his expression, and he realized that this was new territory for the demon just as much as it was for him. Being a pet, being owned by someone else was usually unheard of, but Dean was experiencing new things as well. He had to think, had to be careful, had to learn how to take care of someone who wasn’t a powerful creature but a simple, rather ordinary human. He actually cared, and that seemed to make the demon lose his footing for only a moment, and Frank could understand that.

So he gave a small nod. “Yeah… Yeah, you can wash my hair if you want… That’s okay.”

Relaxing at the consent, Dean nodded, turning Frank around gently and raising his hands to begin slowly lathering the shampoo into his hair. Dean’s gaze darkened, out of Frank’s line of sight, memories resurfacing of things that happened now decades ago, of another brunette head tilted back to let him wash the thick strands with tender fingers. That hair had been much longer than Frank’s, the boy beneath it much younger.

Dean shook off his recollections, annoyed with himself for the borderline-sentimentality, and smirked faintly as he worked on Frank’s hair. “Only downside to this is that you’re not going to smell like sex and come anymore, if anyone comes sniffing around you. Guess I’ll just have to get you all worked up again later on,” the demon said teasingly.

Dean’s fingers were surprisingly gentle as Frank felt him lather the shampoo into his hair. He closed his eyes, letting it happen, letting his body relax a little under the attention. Already something inside of him was preening at the touch, like it had been craving this kind of one on one interaction.

“I’m going to be running out of energy one of these days,” he remarked to Dean’s comment. “I can already tell at some point you’re going to try to milk me dry.”

Dean’s hands paused in their task, and he bit his lip at the startling surge of lust that Frank’s words sent pulsing into his still-tired dick. “Fuck,” the demon muttered, giving a strained laugh. “Now I’m picturing you strapped down to the bed, vibrator in your ass hitting your prostate dead-on, milking you for every drop of come in your body.”

He resumed washing Frank’s hair, tilting him back to let the water run over his head and begin rinsing the suds away, grinning wickedly. “Yeah, that’s going on the bucket list, for sure.”

He really should have known as soon as the words left his mouth that Dean would react somehow, and the sudden twitch of the demon’s cock against him was a good sign that Dean already had an idea in mind. Hearing him voicing that idea out loud almost made his eyes open but he kept them shut as Dean started rinsing the shampoo from his hair.

“I-I don’t think I’ve ever seen a vibrator,” he admitted, blushing.

“Really now.” Dean’s grin only widened, checking off another area in which he would greatly enjoy introducing Frank to something novel. “Well, that’s going to be very fun to play with. I’ve got a couple, we’ll find out soon enough what you like most.”

He went for the conditioner next, making quick work of applying and then rinsing it, then stepped back to wash his own hair swiftly. “Are there any kinks or toys or whatnot that you know about, and want to try?” Dean asked over his shoulder.

Based on Frank’s positive reaction to him showing him care as minor as wanting to wash his hair for him, the demon had a feeling that future successes could be gained by showing genuine interest in what the teenager wanted or needed, as long as they were easy enough requests to meet.

Frank blushed. How was he supposed to respond to that kind of question? 

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I’m… I’m very boring. I’ve only ever watched a few different porn videos since I found out what porn was when I was younger. Honestly, I never really thought of what I might be into, I was too busy with other things.”

Chuckling quietly as he finished with his hair, Dean moved closer to Frank again, snagging an arm around his waist and drawing him against the demon’s chest. His lips landed lightly on Frank’s shoulder, sucking a small, neat mark into the wet skin.

“Nothing boring about you,” he said softly, and then the bite he’d just left reminded him of the much bigger one that had happened when he came just shortly before. “Oh–shit, did I bite too deep?” Dean asked, turning Frank’s body so he could inspect his shoulder. “Is the skin broken?”

“What?” Frank asked, a bit surprised. “No, it feels fine.” Curiously he reached up, touching the bite mark on his shoulder. The skin was a bit pink from the hot water from the shower, and there were faint marks from Dean’s teeth but otherwise it looked fine.

“Good.” Dean moved his fingers over the spot as well, checking that it would be fine and ignoring the fact that their hands grazed as he did so. “I didn’t actually mean to bite you that hard. Just got a little more aggressive, in the heat of the moment.”

He grabbed the bar of soap, rubbing it between his hands until there was a good amount of foam, then gently began spreading it over Frank’s back and down to his hips, humming softly as he washed the teenager’s back. Without thinking about it, Dean fell back on the most familiar tune he knew,  _ Hey Jude _ .

“It’s okay. I’ve felt worse in other situations.” He felt the soap being rubbed into his back and he sighed. The familiar tune of a song reached his ears and Frank looked back at the demon in some surprise. “Fan of the Beatles I take it?”Dean paused, surprised at himself when he registered what he had been humming. “Uh…yeah, I used to be. That’s the first song I ever learned, when I was a kid.” The demon shrugged. “I’m more of an American classic rock guy. Rush, AC/DC/, Foreigner, Zeppelin. Good beats for driving to.”

Rinsing the soap off of Frank’s skin, Dean released him, stepping away to give himself a quick scrub, as well. “I like music. It’s good for communication, and letting loose, all of that.” He shut the water off, getting out and tossing Frank a clean towel. “Helps me forget shit when I just want to have a blank mind.”

Frank nodded as Dean gave him the towel. “I can understand that. I’m more into country music, so I guess that shows how really boring I must be,” he admitted, giving a small shrug. Wrapping the towel around himself, he pushed his wet hair out of his face and got out of the shower as well. “I like other music too though, it’s just… Something kind of comforting about country music.”

Mainly because his mother had loved country music. He could remember being young, sitting in the kitchen doing homework with Joe as his mom cooked dinner, some Dolly Parton or Toby Keith or Tim McGraw playing on the radio, and how over the years the collection was added by Rascal Flatts, Keith Urban, Brad Paisley, Kenny Chesney, all of the good ones. Country music always sang of love or home. Good memories.

Dean laughed softly, drying himself off completely and then slipping his jeans back on, but skipping underwear or a shirt. “Country…wow. Yeah, I used to listen to it sometimes. Had to be a very specific mood, for that. I was very into the really angsty songs, breakups and loneliness and all those classic themes.”

He picked the collar back up, leaning back the counter as he waited for Frank to draw himself off enough to wear it again. “There’s a nice stereo under the TV out there–you can play music, if you want to, I won’t mind.”

“Really?” he asked, rubbing the towel against his head to dry his hair off a bit before moving closer to the demon. “That actually sounds nice. Thank you. Maybe…” He blushed slightly. “Maybe if I can get a guitar down the road I can learn to play some of the songs you like. I took lessons for years, I’m pretty good at it.”Sliding the collar comfortably back around Frank’s neck and buckling it into place, Dean smiled faintly back at him, training a fingertip along the pretty flush that had blossomed in Frank’s cheeks. “That could be nice,” the demon agreed quietly. “I’d like to hear you play.”

The impulse to kiss Frank rose up again, but this time Dean hesitated. It was disconcerting, a little, how much the human seemed to be drawing some kind of softness out of him, and he wasn’t sure it was safe to start flippantly letting himself show affection. At the very least, he was going to put his foot down and deny the kid clothes until the sweatpants were washed.

Besides, Dean liked his bare skin, even if Frank was self-conscious about the scars. The demon frowned, making a mental note to find out about Frank’s past and track down everyone who had ever tortured him.

Frank wasn’t quite sure what was happening right then. It was like Dean was human practically, his eyes green and soft, and his expression a bit careful, if not already showing twinges of affection.

This wasn’t at all what Frank had imagined during those horribly sleepless hours after he had made the deal, clinging to Joe’s hands as they waited for the sunrise. He had thought he would have been forced into it, stripped naked at all times, even abused. And he had been fully prepared for it, felt like if it was the only way to keep Joe alive and safe then he would do it, let it happen. That’s what demons were known for anyway.

But Dean was just full of surprises. They had gotten off on a rocky start, but now things were beginning to settle down. And to be honest, Frank kind of liked how Dean looked at him sometimes, like he was beginning to think of the teenager as something a bit… special.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We can be found on Tumblr at @minxchester and @hunting-hardy-brothers.


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